#also drop the fic if you can i would love to read 👀

[nibbelraz]

I read a fic recently where mu qingfang was like "sometimes if we get VERY lucky, shang-shidi knows some miracle cure" and ive thinking about that in terms of 'god sqh'. Like you mention how x disciple is gonna die of the hyperdeath dying flower and your martial brother speaks in tongues to himself for a moment before stuttering and stammering his way into a 'this might work but good luck' possible cure. Reality takes a sharp turn for half a second and then when you try it, it works. He dismisses it and himself but it keeps happening. Not always, but sometimes. Often enough to be a pattern. Is he some kind of seer? Diviner? Or just divine? He's very protective of his personal rooms so you're not going to be able to get evidence either way. He keeps a garden of poisons and cures that he supplies you with personally, anyway. You're not gonna pry. Then later when everyone is screaming crying throwing up because he betrayed the sect you interrupt his demon king? Boss? Something. To be like hold up. Shang-shidi can I have an address for any emergency letters I might have to send you. Oh and also have you got a supplier for your meds in the demon realm? Hm? Oh yes very powerful demon Lord your flustered servant takes anti anxiety medicine. Yes it's a mix of herbs that forces him to be in less of a state- yes he gets worse than this. Shang-shidi don't whine I've seen you off your meds I KNOW you get stomach aches from anxiety so bad you can't work. Yes the 'category 5 tummy event' is not a secret. We know about them shang-shidi.

The category 5 tummy event he's so me 😭

The idea of Mu Qingfang just knowing that yeah Shang-Shidi most often then not probably has the cure to this Very deadly disease and doesn't bat an eye he's just like well as long as they live I GUESS.

Also the person with the balls to go staring up at this incredibly cold and dangerous demon with a straight face to tell Qinghua to take his meds

Mobei would definitely listen and take notes

#svsss #mobei jun #shang qinghua #ask #nib text #also drop the fic if you can i would love to read 👀 #also hes a god and can make any cure known to man but he cant stop himself from having anxiety i feel him #at least he can make something to calm it

[reiderwriter]

hi 💖 I’m literally ✨obsessed✨ with your writing atm and I’ve never done a request before so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity!!

I would love to read an established couple fic where reader drops by !professor spencer’s office and spicy times ensue 🌶️👀 the trope where reader is inexplicably jealous of the girls auditing his class gets me every 🤌 single 🤌 time 🤌 (but don’t feel like you have to include that trope!! I’m a sucker for any !professor spencer smut lmao)

- 🐺 anon

A/N: Thank you sm for your request!! I am also slightly unhinged about Professor Spencer (I think this is my second one this month lmao) so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: use of sir, degradation, fingering, no contraception, PinV sex, semi-public sex, jealous reader (she's like 27 beefing with undergrads), age-gap (15 years), Spencer keeps a souvenir of her visit 😊. Also I don't even know if American lecturers have office hours, so like... For context I am a European living in SK lmao. 18+ MINORS DNI

W/C: ~2k

Check out my masterlist!!

You’d lost count of how many times you’d visited Spencer in his office now that he’d started lecturing semi-regularly. The break from his regular activities as a member of the BAU suited him well, and you had no complaints either, loving having an excuse to drop by the college campus he was based on to visit the cute student-run coffee shops and explore the space. And since you’d started working from home while you wrote your novel, you definitely had the time to visit.

Usually, you’d find him in some lecture theatre or the other, but having walked around all his regularly scheduled rooms, he was nowhere in sight. You shrugged a little, figuring that he must be in his office if he was nowhere else. You were right, of course, but he wasn’t exactly alone.

A line of undergrads had formed at his door as you noticed the sign pinned to his door mentioned his updated office hours for the semester in the run-up to finals week. Typical. You were never the best-timed person, and you could see that you weren’t going to get his attention for a while from the look of all the students. You waited outside for him to open the door and summon the next student into his office, settling onto a couch opposite his door.

You weren’t trying to listen in to the multiple conversations going on, but you couldn’t help it when they were being so loud and open.

“God, he’s so fucking hot, I just want him to bend me over that desk and-”

“-wonder if he’s single. If he is, I’m totally going to make a move-”

“-I just know it’s big-”

“- in that lecture about the serial rapist, all I could think about was his hands-”

You blushed a little deeper with each of their confessions. They didn’t know who you were, of course they didn’t, and you sure as hell weren’t going to tell them. But now you knew why it was that they were here, and honestly, you couldn’t blame them for lusting after the man, you’d done the same thing. Your relationship had started in a similar way. You’d knocked on the doors of the FBI with a case back when you were a journalist, and been met with those big brown eyes and it had taken your entire strength to not jump him then and there.

So you understood. But you didn’t have to like it, and you certainly did not. The longer you sat there, the older you felt, constantly resisting the urge to yell at these kids in an old maid's way. Gods he was old enough to be some of these girls’ fathers. You weren’t exactly close in age with him yourself, a gap of about 15 years separating the two of you, but come on.

The door to his office finally cracked open, and you followed the sound of his voice, still rambling out facts as he let the student out.

“Now that you have the difference between stressor and trigger down, you’ll find it easier to interpret some of the readings, just keep in mind that sometimes they can be one and the same.” The student nodded and thanked him before leaving, a slightly disappointed look shadowing her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” His smile lit up the second he saw you, and you held out the coffee you’d bought him earlier to him.

“Thought I’d drop in and see you. I missed you.” Maybe it was petty of you in front of literal teenagers and people who couldn’t even legally drink yet, but you wrapped a hand around his waist, underneath his suit jacket, and looked up at him with a big grin, fluttering your eyelashes. He looked at you with knotted eyebrows, trying to decode your words as if they were the key to cracking a case he was working on.

You felt the eyes of the students burning into you, heard them whispering to each other and your grin deepened. You’d marked your territory successfully.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got office hours for the next 25 minutes, do you mind waiting?” He looked apologetically down at you, speaking with a bit of an awkward tone, not used to the notable PDA.

“That’s fine. I can wait out here, right?” You asked, trying to give him your most innocent look. He nodded his assent, and you returned to your seat, grabbing a book from your bag and settling in as he welcomed the next student to his office.

An hour later, all the students had finally dispersed. A fair few of them had given up after you made your identity known, embarrassingly slinking away from the queue, but a fair few had stuck it out, still just wanting a glimpse of him. The conversation had dimmed though, now back on the topic of college parties and TikTok stars or something.

When the final student slipped out of the office, you jumped up enthusiastically and joined Reid inside, letting yourself in with a small knock and a sing-song “professor.”

He was sat at his desk, glasses perched on his nose looking down at some papers, and looking as attractive as he had the day you’d met him. You slunk over to him, swirling his chair around so you could sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

“What’s gotten into you today?” He asked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him, obviously not objecting to the sudden physicality of your affection. “It’s not an anniversary, we’re only on our 1,813th day of dating which doesn’t mark any milestones or other special cultural holidays, so what gives.”

“You know I love it when you talk numbers to me.”

“You know I love it even more when you spill and tell me what’s going on? Come on, Y/N, something’s different.” You pouted at this goddamn superhuman perception. It was going to be embarrassing to admit that you saw the gaggle of girls that had been crowding around his office as competition.

“There were a lot of students today.” You said, simply changing the topic a bit, hoping you wouldn’t have to explicitly name the green-eyed monster that had taken over you.

“Not really, that’s about the amount I get every time I open office hours.”

“Every time?” He’d told you often that you were an absolutely open book, your facial expressions baring your every thought and feeling. So you cursed yourself at the pout you felt forming on your lips.

“Woah, what was that? Y/N, are you… are you jealous?”He laughed a little bit as your frown deepened, a flush coming up to cover your face.

“So what if I am?”

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you, baby?” He trailed his hand up between your thighs and your breath hitched as you felt the tone of the conversation immediately shift.

“They were talking about you, y’know?” your breath hitched at the last word, as his hand found its way to your clit, beginning to press the tiniest of circles around that nerve.

“Oh? What were they saying that made my princess so upset?” The hand gripping your hip was nearly painful now, as he clasped you tightly, letting your legs spread for him as he slowly picked up the pace, your back now flush against his chest as he looked down to between your legs from over your shoulder. Your head was thrown back against him, your chest rising and falling with every small movement.

“They were talking a-about your hands,” you moaned out. His eyes stayed fixed on your center, but his free hand trailed up to your blouse, popping a few buttons expertly so he could see the rise and form of your chest, see your nipples sticking out through the thin bra you’d chosen that morning.

“Hmm, is that it baby? They just talked about these hands?” He continued at his agonizing pace on your clit as his hand lifted to your nipples, pulling one breast free of your bra and beginning to roll it between his fingers. You writhed at the touch, trying desperately to keep quiet, knowing from your time outside just how thin these walls were.

“Baby, I think you didn’t hear me. Was that all they said?” His tone was darker now, and you knew you had to answer before he made you.

“No!” You moaned out, trying to gain back some composure when all you wanted to do was relax into his hands and let him pull your release from you. “They… they said they knew you were big… Down there.” He laughed a little at that and shifted his hips underneath you.

“And are they correct baby?” You feel him pressing against your leg now and it takes everything in you not to let your eyes roll back in pleasure and let him use you as he wants.

“Yes, sir. They were… they were right, you always fill me up so good.” Your hips start grinding down into his, his hand stilling as you use him to get yourself off.

“There’s something else they said, right, baby? You’re holding something back?” He smiled, dropping hot open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you frantically rubbed yourself up against him. Your moans were ripping out from your mouth now in frustrated moans, as you felt needy in a way you’d never quite experienced before.

“Stop teasing, Spencer.”

“No. This is my office, and you come in draping yourself all over me like a whore in front of all of my students. You don’t get to call me Spencer right now, you’re going to have to show a little bit more respect.” With those words he pushed you up to your feet, pulling his hands off of you before quickly clearing a space on the desk and bending you over it.

“I heard this bit. They said they wanted me to bend them over and take them like this, right?” You heard him unzip his pants, bringing the tip of his cock to your entrance as he started teasing you, pulling your panties to the side. You moaned out a yes, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore.

“Use your words, baby. What did they want me to do to them?”

“They wanted you to bend them over the desk and fuck them like a little whore, sir.” With that confession out in the open, he finally pushed into you, stretching you out with a sinful groan slipping from his mouth.

“Fuck baby, so tight and wet for me…” His thrusts were hard and slow, and you could feel the wetness seeping down your legs, the wet sounds of your activity filling the space infinitely. His pace picked up and so did your constant mewls from the contact, the sounds completely unmistakable for anything but base lust.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart. Going to come, right here on my cock in my office, huh?”

“Yes, sir, I’m going to…. Shit, I’m going to cum.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your face up to his, swallowing each of your moans with his mouth as he let his tongue explore, your body twitching still under his ministrations. He kept his rough pace up for another minute or two before hitting his peak as well, pulling out to empty himself out on your thighs.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mumbled, falling back into his chair and running a hand through his tousled hair as you fell forward back into the desk, chest heaving. He was at eye level with the results of his labour and you heard the sound of his phone camera clicking before you could pull yourself together.

“Spencer!” You giggled awkwardly, looking back at him with an incredulous look as he pulled some tissues out of the desk drawer and started cleaning you up.

“What? I always take notes during my office hours.” He grinned up at you, as you turned around and planted another kiss to his lips, pulling him back up to you.

“How many students do you think will actually turn up to your class tomorrow?”

“I’ll be lucky if the module actually has any sign-ups next term.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #Requested #🐺 anon

[sohnric]

BIGGER BOYS AND STOLEN SWEETHEARTS — K. SUNWOO

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: fluff. platonic but also not really 👀 jealous sunwoo that is also very delusionally in love with the reader. sunwoo plays the electric guitar but also he's kind of shit so yn has to help him

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, jealousy, the reader is basically half naked and sunwoo ogles a bit

a/n: this fic is my way of battling writer's block. uni is kicking my ass but also i thought of this in the train omw home so i guess its also good for something. this is very much inspired by sunwoo wanting to learn how to play electric guitar, me remembering i own one, and also miri @/satoruly associating bigger boys and stolen sweethearts with me and making me forever insane because of it. also reblog and comment pls its so quiet here its depressing.

once again thank u so much @csenke for beta reading this fiesty baby and thank u @from-izzy for helping me with the flirty bits i owe you my life.

“You have to leave by 5, because I’m hanging out with Mark later,” you call for him as you enter the room, eyes catching a glimpse of Sunwoo sitting on your bed, an electric guitar in his hand. The boy furrows his brows at your words, a bitter taste on his tongue making him roll his eyes as he focuses his attention on the instrument in his lap, fingers aimlessly playing with the strings.

“Okay, alright,” he hisses, clicking his tongue. If you notice anything odd about his behavior, you don’t mention it to him– and if he was self-aware enough to recognise the acid aftertaste your words leave in his mouth for what it really was, he’d be even glad for your sudden blindness to his infatuation with you.

“We’re going to the new bistro that opened downtown,” you hum, as if to only fuel the boy’s frustration further. If all you wanted to do was talk about the guy, why did you invite Sunwoo over in the first place? This was starting to feel like a trap.

“I told you about that place,” he huffs.

“Thank you for the recommendation,” you smile at him ironically, and when your eyes finally meet, Sunwoo recognises the playful glint in your eye– you’re 100% aware of the tension in the air, enjoying the way you have the boy completely under your spell, ready to be torn into pieces. It’s that look you have on your face every time a guy hits on you– the one that mirrors victory, the slightest kick it gives your self-esteem making you grin to yourself as you twirl your hair on your finger and satisfy the man with the slightest touch on his arm. You play into it– you always do– but you never quite let anyone sweep you off your feet completely.

“I thought we would check it out together,” Sunwoo says, fingers plucking at the E string of the guitar, making a dull sound resonate through your room as the background to your conversation.

“We can do that later,” you say, shrugging, “I’ll give you all the recommendations.”

“Traitor,” Sunwoo hisses, glaring at you with a tinge of hurt behind his orbs.

“Don’t be so butthurt.”

“Don’t be so merciless, then,” the boy counters, averting his gaze from yours. “Is he picking you up? I bet he doesn’t even have a car.”

“That’s an unusual way to express jealousy, considering you don’t even have a car, Sunwoo,” you grimace, chuckling at the emotional outburst of your friend. “Besides, his dad owns a car bazaar. I think the possibilities of him not owning a car are quite close to zero.”

Sunwoo stays quiet at that, the call-out making red splotches appear on his cheeks from shame. His eyes quickly move to the guitar again, hypnotizing it with his gaze, fingers clamming at the strings. 

Do you like torturing him? Is this what it’s all about? Just a few days ago, he thought he had it all– sneaking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans as he was dropping you off, receiving a ruffle to his hair after you pulled away from his hug, sending a flying kiss to him as you disappeared behind the front door. Today, all you’re talking about is Mark, Mark’s car, Mark’s family, Mark’s school, Mark’s fucking hairstyle, and all Sunwoo can do is either rip out all of his hair, or fantasize about ripping out Mark Lee’s instead– strand by strand, slowly, mercilessly.

“Whatever,” he comments, shaking his head at you. After many months of being friends with you, he should be immune to your charms. The more time he spends with you, though, the more unarmed he seems to be to your enchanting magnetism. You’re not nice to his heart, but up until this moment, he kinda liked the tug of war over yours.

The moment drags itself along before he hears you sigh from somewhere in front of him, frustration so evident in the sound. Sunwoo doesn’t really know what you have to be so infuriated about, since as far as he’s aware, he’s the one left cold and unwanted in the comfort of your room that smells deadly of your perfume (that’s so hard to shake off sometimes, yet he can’t find it in him to hate the sweet scent), but as he looks up to meet your eye, he chokes on his own spit at the image that meets his eye.

“You still don’t know how to play that riff, do you?” you click your tongue, shaking your head. It’s not the action that leaves Sunwoo feeling warmer than before, sweat almost comically appearing on his forehead– the image of you in only last remains of your school uniform does, though, as his eyes unashamedly scan the lengths of your now uncovered legs up your thighs to the curve of your bum, visible as you stare at him sideways, soft skin only slightly covered by the tinge oversized white button-down, red lace peeking out, piercing his gaze.

The boy silently shakes his head, licking his lips in a scattered manner. “Nope,” he admits, letting the last syllable pop in the now silent room, blood rushing to his ears as you stride forward and reach his position in your bedsheets.

“It’s really easy,” you huff, “you just– wait, let me show you,” you start, almost making the boy offer your own guitar back to you, before he watches you climb into the bed behind him, making his breathing hitch in his throat.

This is not at all what he expected you to do, he recognises when he feels your breathing on his neck as you lean over him, thighs straddling his back and pressing into his sides when you kneel on the mattress behind his back in order to have the best vision of the guitar. Sunwoo’s hands slip off the instrument when he finds your head next to his, your arms sneaking around his figure to press the chords down with your digits instead, strumming the strings and caging the boy into your scent and the flush of your muscles, forcing him to watch the little tutorial from first point of view. Your fingers move skillfully against the strings, having played that exact riff many times before (which is also why Sunwoo decided to pick it up, for it reminded him of the afternoons spent in the comfort of your room, laying on the rug in the middle of the floor as you played him your favorite songs), and he can’t help but feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up when your breath meets the side of his face.

“Clearer now?”

“Mhm,” he gulps, nodding. He’s too afraid to turn his head, too scared to see your face so from up close and not instinctively trail his gaze to your lips (of which curves have been sculpted in the heaven, he thinks), and so he only results to taking ahold of the guitar again, battling the reality of having your naked legs pressing into him from behind, fighting the image of your underwear out of his head to the best of his abilities.

He tries to mimic the position of your fingers on the guitar, but the fact that he remembered it wrong (or just was too distracted by his surroundings to really take the information in) is set out to him when you quickly take ahold of his hand, left palm glazing his to move his ring finger to the right position. “Here,” you hum, “that’s the problem. You keep pressing it on the 3rd fret instead of the 4th and that’s why it sounded so weird,” you laugh, the vibration of it against his back making Sunwoo feel like he’s being pumped with pure electricity, fireflies filling his stomach.

“I think it’s too fast for me to keep up with,” he complains, managing to drag a coherent sentence out of his mouth.

“I’ll pluck the strings for you,” you offer, voice saccharine right in his ear, “just try to get the chord patterns down.”

The boy nods, forcing the snapshots of the chord placements to the front of his brain, both begging to get it right so you end your little intimate tutoring session and also hoping he messes up again just to have you scold him and forcefully dragging his fingers to the correct strings– having Sunwoo pathetically yearning for the slightest of your touches. The heartbeat ringing in his own ears serves him as a metronome, and as he chews on the inside of his cheek when he starts, his head spins with the intoxication of your scent, making it hard for him to focus on the tune. 

“You got it wrong again,” you hiss into his ear, making goosebumps appear all over his skin. Oh, how mean you are– completely aware of the effect you have on the boy. He’s starting to think you love the idea of torturing him. It must be fun to have someone so under your spell, so drunk on your bare existence. 

“I’ll practice more until our next tutoring,” he gulps, laughing airly as you let go of him and move away, letting the poor boy finally breathe.

“You better,” you snicker, standing up and walking back over to your opened closet, bending over to pick up your discarded skirt off the ground and offering the boy a clear view of your bum from where he’s sitting on your bed. Now, there’s no denying you like to tease him. And Sunwoo is aware he might get burned, but like a little boy, he kind of enjoys playing with fire. “Or I’ll start to think you are enjoying my lessons a little too much.”

“Only the ones where you get all angry with me,” he notes, placing the guitar next to him on the bed, his palms now too sweaty to continue playing. “You’re kind of hot when you scream at me.”

Throwing a playful look over your shoulder at the boy, making the first two buttons of your blouse undone, a chuckle leaves your throat. “You’re not the first one to tell me that, sweetheart,” you note. “Now leave my room, you pervert. It’s almost 5 and I have to change.”

Defeated, but still obedient, Sunwoo stands up from your bed and takes slow steps towards the door, dreading his departure. The idea of Mark Lee getting to enjoy this side of you makes Sunwoo particularly green, but the feelings quickly fade when he remembers the moments from a few seconds ago, when he thinks back to the softness of your skin. Before he has the chance to leave, though, a tug on his tie yanks him towards you– the school uniform still covering his body from when he walked home with you two hours ago, carrying both of your bags,  proving as an effective attire for your afternoon hangouts.

Pulling him down so your faces are on the same level, the tips of your noses almost touching, has Sunwoo’s shocked eyes grow comically wide and his cheeks burn a crimson red. He feels your breathing fan his lips from the proximity, heart once again running a marathon in his chest when your voice purrs out in a feline-like manner, riling him up. “Always tugging on those strings, but I'll have you know, Sunwoo, you tug on mine all the time,” you grin, gaze only momentarily slipping towards his chapped lips.

Oh, you’re not nice. You’re pretty fucking far from nice– from how you’re playing with his heart, leading him on. 

Or are you not…? He guesses he’ll have to find out. 

You're a far better guitar player than Sunwoo is, but if you ever wanted a new instrument to perfect, he is more than willing to offer you his body to practice on. 

#deoboyznet #sunwoo #the boyz #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagine #sunwoo scenario #sunwoo imagine

[here2bbtstrash]

the spins (explicit)

genre: smutttyyyyyy as hell (with like one angsty conversation about isolation as a trauma response, but said in much vaguer terms lol)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you discover a new side to your former lab partner, frat wonder boy jeon jungkook, when you confess to him the one thing no man has ever been able to make you do.

word count: 10.3k

contains: explicit sexual content AKA porn!!!!! alcohol, minor frat house shenanigans, reader is a total bitch but in a highkey relatable way, jungkook is The Only Good Frat Boy, mentions of shitty hookups/sexual dissatisfaction/faked orgasms, an **absurdly** lengthy and gratuitous cunnilingus scene, a lil bit of teasing/begging, spitting, LOUD sex, reader’s first partnered orgasms, also JK has a tongue piercing 👀

A/N: so writing this nearly killed me,,, lmao. i have two inspiration sources that i must credit- one is jai’s @gimmethatagustd INCREDIBLE fic paint me naked, which gave me the final shove i needed to topple over into JK hard stan land (listen he’s 3 years younger than me, i had a complex about it, it’s fine). seriously go give it a read and give her some love, i fully credit her with moving college!JK into my brain where he now lives rent-free.

the other source of inspiration is this insaaaaane imagine audio (WARNING, extremely NSFW and will literally ruin your life!!!!!) that hooked me on the idea that JK would be competitive about eating pussy and….. yep, smack those two things together and ta-da, this porn was born. godspeed and thanks as always for reading 💜

this is now (finally) on AO3!

~*~

You really don’t know why you came to this party. It’s so crowded, bodies pressed together, people screaming to be heard over the noise, or just because they’re white girl wasted. The music is terrible, the floor weirdly sticky, the container of jungle juice in the kitchen extremely suspicious. You opted for tequila instead, the last of which you now drain from the bottom of your red solo cup. The whole place smells like cheap beer, vape smoke, and frat boy cologne.

Yet another Jack Harlow song comes on over the bass-boosted speakers and you roll your eyes. That’s it. Time to go home and actually finish the psych paper you’re putting off.

You shove your way into the kitchen, trying to be the only upstanding citizen in this godforsaken frat house and actually put your trash in a trash can. You spot one in the corner– nearly overflowing, but still good enough, except that a whole circle of Brads and Chads block your path. You do your best to squeeze past them, but because they don’t do anything except live at the gym and snort protein powder, they might as well be a brick wall.

“Excuse me,” you try. Nothing.

“I need to get through,” you say with a gentle push. It’s like talking to a brick wall, too.

“Alright, fuck it.” You roll your eyes and decide to just fucking go for it. You’ve had enough liquor that you won’t feel the pain until tomorrow anyway.

The circle breaks apart in confusion, not a brain cell in sight, as you slam your way through. They part so quickly that your plan works too well, and the excess momentum shoots you forward. You stumble, losing your footing, already cringing because you’re about to faceplant on the nasty floor of this nasty frat house kitchen.

“Hey, whoa!” A voice way too close to your ear for comfort shouts, but then an arm snakes around your waist and saves you from your doom, gripping you tightly. “Careful!”

You glance up, wondering if this guy is going to try to turn the moment into some attempt at flirtation, the world’s worst meet cute, but then you see big round eyes staring back at you with legitimate concern. Oh, fuck. You know those Disney princess eyes. Your stomach drops.

“Whaaaaaaaat!” Holding you in one arm, an unopened 18-rack of beer hoisted up on his shoulder with the other, grinning like a kid in a candy store, is none other than frat wonder boy Jeon Jungkook.

Ah, shit. You knew he was in a frat, of course. He doesn’t shut up about it. But you didn’t know it was this one– well, actually, you don’t even know which frat house you’re in right now. Alpha Beta Omega? They’re all the same to you. You don’t really understand why they have factions anyway instead of all just living together, but that would probably be too gay.

“I didn’t know you partied!” Jungkook is still smiling a smile that takes up his whole face, clearly unable to believe that you’re standing here in his disgusting frat house kitchen in your leather jacket and your combat boots.

You huff a laugh as he slowly unloops his arm from around you, assessing to see if you’re stable enough to stay upright. You shoot him a look as if to say I’m fine, dumbass. Uncoordinated, not intoxicated. There’s a difference.

“I do not party,” you correct him. “Never once in my life have I partied. I merely come to the parties, stand on the edges and observe, get my free alcohol, and then depart. Like I’m doing right now.” You aim your solo cup at the trash can and miss by about a foot.

“You– hang on,” he pauses, turning back to offload the fresh case of beer onto the kitchen counter. There’s a clamor of excitement from the Brads and Chads as they crowd around to slap him on the back, shouting things like “okay, JK!” and “let’s fucking gooooo!”

You have to get out of here, you think to yourself, and then you watch Jungkook bring his tattooed hand up to rip the cardboard front of the case off effortlessly, and that is lowkey kind of hot.

Quiet, you tell your tequila brain. No lusting after frat boys. Not even the one you sat next to for an entire semester in bio lab, the one who was actually way smarter than anticipated and didn’t just use you for an easy A, who genuinely seemed like he cared about the way you answered “How was your weekend?” every time he asked, and who didn’t even say one problematic thing the whole semester.

Just because he’s the exemplary form of his species doesn’t make him not what he is, you remind yourself. Even the best frat boy is still a frat boy.

Jungkook returns as the rest of the bros swarm the counter and proceed to decimate the case of beer. That must have been the reason they were waiting here, at their proverbial watering hole, because they circle up and dissolve back into the party, several of them clapping Jungkook on the back again in thanks as they leave.

You realize he doesn’t have to yell to be heard anymore as he says, “You’re leaving already?”

“Yes, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I have a paper to write.”

He scrunches up his face, knowing he can’t argue with academic excellence. “It’s still early. What if you just have one more drink, and then go? I haven’t even gotten to enjoy the party yet. The pledges severely underestimated how much alcohol it takes to run this place.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m so terribly sorry that your child servants who literally give you money in exchange for friendship got something wrong.”

The words feel biting as they leave your mouth, and you honestly expect him to protest, but he only shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re right. The whole thing is stupid.” For a moment you wonder how on earth he’s immune, what it is about him that allows him to live in the cradle of toxic masculinity and still be so regular, so good.

“Will you stay?” He asks again. You try to purse your lips to hide your smile, but it doesn’t work, and then he’s smiling too.

“Fine.”

The kid literally fist pumps, and your laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. He gestures broadly to the kitchen counters which are a veritable nightmare of liquor bottles and beer cans. “What’ll it be? Don’t say the jungle juice,” he warns with a laugh.

You look at him like he’s gone entirely insane. “I would never say the jungle juice. Tequila, please.”

Jungkook moves fluidly, as if he’s imitating those ridiculous Las Vegas bartenders who do tricks while they pour your obscenely overpriced drink. He shakes a solo cup off the stack and throws it up, spinning on his heels and catching it in his other hand, and you’re laughing again because he’s such a fucking dork.

He crosses to open the freezer and scoops up some ice in your cup, then pours a healthy amount of tequila in. “And mixer?” He looks back at you over his shoulder.

You pause. “Uh, just ice is good.”

He puts the bottle down and turns to squint at you in disbelief. “You drink straight tequila and you’re telling me you don’t party?”

You falter, a little flustered. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m drinking it for the taste, you know?”

“Can I show you what you’re missing out on?” He asks, and you don’t know why the question makes you swallow hard. “Seriously.” He picks the bottle of tequila back up, eyeing the brand with distaste. “This stuff is… not great.”

Your instinct is to joke about him slipping something in your drink, but you bite the words back– because first of all, not funny. But you also genuinely don’t think he would ever do something like that, and you don’t want to give off the impression that you do.

“Alright,” you say instead, lifting your hands in surrender.

He opens the fridge door and crouches down, digging around through what you can only imagine is a Costco-sized amount of egg cartons and packages of chicken breasts. Finding what he’s looking for, he pulls away with a carton that’s been Sharpie’d to death, “JK ONLY DO NOT DRINK” on all sides. It’s really every bro for himself out here, you think.

“Grapefruit okay?” Jungkook double-checks, and you give a shrug and a nod. He pours a little, inspects the cup, then adds a splash more. “It’s not too sweet.”

He passes the cup off to you and returns his juice to the fridge, shuts the door, then seems to realize he forgot to make himself a drink and repeats the entire process again, spinning in a full circle which has you hiding your giggle in the rim of your cup. Once he’s made himself a matching drink to yours, he leans against the counter and takes a sip, surveying you.

You mirror him– the drink is admittedly a lot better than straight bottom-shelf, and you like how the sour taste lingers on the back of your tongue.

“Thank you,” you remember to say after a few sips, and he waves it off as if to say it’s no big deal.

“So, why are you here? Observing us in our natural habitat?” He puts on a voice for the last part, in a clear imitation of you, and you smirk. It does sound like something you would say.

“I’m an agent of chaos,” you say and he gives you a look like he’s waiting for the real answer. You choose that moment to take a long swallow of your drink, buying time. He continues to wait patiently, so you finally just shrug and make a face. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to do my paper. I saw a thing for it on insta. And I was tired of rotting away in my dorm room.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I tried inviting you to stuff when we were lab partners.” You wonder if the tequila is making you imagine that he sounds a little hurt. “You never seemed into it.”

At that, you laugh, because he’s being kind. Jungkook did invite you regularly to whatever mixers or ragers his frat was planning, and every time you would tell him no, directly to his face, like the bitch that you are. You eventually started trying to come up with as many creative ways to phrase it as you could: no, nope, never, not in a million years, when hell freezes over. He took them all like a champ, and that was one of the first things you remember liking about him. A frat boy who can respect when someone says no and not try to push it– now that is a rarity.

You want to apologize, but you really have no explanation for what makes tonight any different, at least not one you can say eloquently. How do you tell him you’re fucking sick of staring at the walls, feeling like “the best years of your life” are passing you by and leaving you with nothing to show for it? That you’ve painted sarcasm and an “I don’t give a fuck” attitude over your life for so long that now it feels like you’re backed into a corner where you can’t give a shit about anybody because there’s nobody left to give a shit about? So you were neck deep in insta stories on a Friday night like a fucking loser, and you saw a stupid post about a stupid frat party by some girl you swore was going to be your bestie the first week of freshman year who you promptly never spoke to again, and something in you snapped and said, “fuck it”?

Oof, tequila coming in strong, you think to yourself. You decide to spare Jungkook the emotional word vomit.

He keeps going when you don’t respond. “I just figured you had better things to do. Like ride motorcycles, or be in a mosh pit.”

You roll your eyes. “Motorcycles are giant metal death traps. Hard pass. And I don’t like getting punched in the face by nazis, so I don’t mosh.” You take a sip of your drink and size him up. “You’re one to talk, little alt boy.”

He’s playing with his lip ring when you say it, and the blush that creeps up his neck is honestly cute. Thoroughly unfazed by your words, he rolls up the right sleeve of his eyesore of a button down until his arm is fully exposed. “Check it out! Finally filled in the shoulder piece.”

You step closer to admire the fresh ink. Jungkook’s sleeve is, admittedly, really fucking cool. You still remember the first time you saw it in bio lab. It was the first day where the temperature crept up to an actual tolerable degree after what felt like a winter that would never end. You’d only known him in hoodies up to that point, so when he rolled into class that day in a baggy t-shirt and you saw the hint of lettering and shading peeking out from under his sleeve, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“It’s rude to stare,” he’d said with a soft laugh and a cheeky-ass wink.

You wonder now if maybe you stepped too close, because you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He holds his arm up for you, rotating it to show off the whole thing. Throughout the rest of the semester, you’d watched as he slowly started to fill in the blank spaces, but now it’s even more cohesive; he’s nearly finished it in the time since you last got a good look.

“Just need something on my wrist. And I might do the back of my hand. I haven’t decided.” He squeezes his hand into a fist and flexes with a put-on grunt, and you laugh even as the swell of his bicep makes your heart jump in your chest.

Emboldened by how close you are to him, and also the tequila, you trace your finger along the words that wrap across his forearm– rather be dead than cool. “That one’s my favorite,” you say softly.

When you glance up, he’s already looking at you, and now your heart’s in your throat. “I swear this thing’s the only reason you like me,” he says, the non-pierced corner of his mouth crooking up in a barely-there smile.

You open your mouth to protest when the kitchen is suddenly alive with noise as a mass of bodies crash through the doorway. A girl in a minidress that has ridden dangerously far up her thighs is nearly carried in by two of her friends, with several more trailing in right at their heels, and her name must be Hannah because they all say it about a thousand times in six seconds. A couple of dudebros shuffle in behind them, shouting for everyone to step back and give her space.

Nowhere else to go, you’re forced that much closer to Jungkook as far too many people try to squeeze into the tiny kitchen. You’ve basically got him pinned against the counter, and you look away, then look back, extremely uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and he shakes his head like it’s not a big deal.

He does smell really good, you realize now that he’s this close. Not like he took a bath in Axe body spray or Drakkar Noir, as most of his frat bros do, just… warm and clean, with a hint of the good kind of boy musk, salt and skin. It’s a welcome distraction from the unbridled chaos of Hannah and her entourage.

“She’s gonna be sick,” someone warns, and you wince in preparation.

“Hannah, aim for the sink!” Another girl coaxes. You turn over your shoulder and watch as Hannah takes a few steps forward, legs quivering like a baby deer, then does a last-second pivot and vomits directly into the jungle juice.

“Oh, party foul!” One of the bros yells.

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, and then Jungkook’s breath is ghosting over your neck and you can’t think about anything else. “Do you want to go to my room?” His voice is low, his lips inches from your ear.

You look up at him over the rim of your cup. “Yes, please.”

It’s only once you start walking that your mind is able to process what’s happening, and the panic sets in. Jeon Jungkook is guiding you through his packed frat house, his hand on the small of your back. Of course the crowds part for you like the fucking red sea, no throwing elbows required, because everybody loves him.

His bros greet him as he passes, “‘sup JK!”, and you try to avoid eye contact. You wonder how regularly they see this, him leading some wide-eyed girl up to his room to do what frat boys do best. Your stomach twists as you wonder what his expectations are, and what the fuck it is that you’ve just agreed to by saying yes.

You climb the stairs, his hand still pressed to your back, and he leads you to the first room on the left when you reach the top. When he opens the door and motions for you to step through, you’re surprised.

For one, it doesn’t reek of weed. It just smells like he does, but stronger, with a hint of fresh laundry. His bed isn’t made, but there are also no questionable stains on the black sheets, and he has four pillows and a bed frame, not just a mattress and box spring on the ground with one sad rectangle. There are some cups on the nightstand, but no ash tray overflowing with burnt out ends of blunts, no empty beer cans, and you can actually see the floor.

Not bad, you think to yourself, and then the anxiety presses in again as he shuts the door behind you. Nope. You are absolutely not doing this.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “These things get really crazy around finals season. I guess people need an escape in the form of mild alcohol poisoning.”

You cross your arms, unable to continue the polite conversation. “Look, I don’t know what you think is going to happen in here, but it’s not going to happen, okay?”

He steps back, his brow instantly furrowing. “Wait, what? Are you mad at me right now? I just figured you’d want to get out of the kitchen, since a girl was actively puking.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you say, not buying it.

“I-I’m not.” Jungkook seems genuinely flustered, enough that you realize he’s probably not acting. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he starts, and then he sighs, like he’s correcting himself. “But, I guess my intentions really don’t matter, because it seems like I did. So I’m sorry.”

You squint at him, wondering who the fuck taught this boy how to apologize so damn well. This is the first time you’ve ever heard a frat boy say “sorry” without it being immediately followed by “but” and then something so offensive that it negates the entire thing.

He waits for you to respond, then gestures to the door. “If you want to go, you can go. I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you at all since last semester, and I’m really glad you came out.”

The thought of going back downstairs is slightly more anxiety-inducing than staying in this room. At least here it’s quiet, and it smells nice, and he apparently is not actually trying to get into your pants. It really does seem like you read him wrong, you admit to yourself, and then you unceremoniously plop down on his carpet.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide the big smile on his face as he joins you on the floor, and you both lean back against the foot of his bed. He slips his feet out of his slides and you lean forward to pull your boots off.

“Like I said, I’ve been rotting away in my dorm room,” you remind him with a dry laugh.

“You should’ve texted me. I would’ve come rot with you.”

His words make you smile a little, but you’re still suspicious. “Uh-huh,” you intone as he takes another sip of his drink. “And what would we have done, Jungkook?” The question nearly makes you cringe; it’s like reading a bad sext out loud. You don’t know why you keep pushing him on this.

Maybe, a tiny part of your tequila brain whispers to you, you’re goading him so hard into saying that he wants to hook up because for a split second back there in the kitchen, you realized that’s what you want. But you’re a hyper-independent bitch who can’t ever admit to needing anything from anybody, so you need him to say it first.

You grit your teeth and give your head a nearly imperceptible shake, trying to shut that brain cell up.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug, like he really doesn’t. “Play video games?” He gestures to a Nintendo 64 in the corner of his room, hooked up to a large TV that’s mounted on the wall.

It’s certainly not the answer you expected, but you don’t hate it. You raise an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “Well, I will kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

He sucks gently on his lip ring as he looks you over, and there’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ve clearly tapped into something. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“Then prove it.”

Dropping out of shit-talk mode for a second, Jungkook gives a laugh that almost sounds embarrassed. “I should warn you, I get pretty competitive.”

You refuse to back down. “Better work on your gracious losing face, then.”

In acceptance of your challenge, you watch as he sorts through the bin of cartridges next to the console until he finds the one he’s looking for. He brings it up to his mouth and blows on it, some strange gamer ritual you’ve seen before but have never understood, and a shiver runs through you.

“Here,” he says, tossing you a dark blue controller, letting the cord unravel and plugging it into the port. “You can even use my favorite.” You take it in your hands and smile when you see the yellow Pokémon logo stamped across the center.

“You’re going to regret that when I beat you with it,” you retort, shrugging out of your jacket for optimum mobility. He’s grinning as he settles back next to you and the menu music starts up.

It turns out you’re pretty evenly matched in the Mario Kart skills department. You sail past him on the first course, easily finishing in first, but get entirely wrecked by a blue shell in course two and he’s able to clinch it no problem.

You would’ve expected more shit-talking based on his warning, but instead he’s just so focused, eyes wide, mouth wiggling his lip ring back and forth. It’s a little endearing. A lot endearing, really. You keep sneaking glances over at him as you start up the third and final course, wondering why he has to be so goddamn cute, why you’re incapable of finding a single flaw in him no matter how hard you try.

Forcing yourself to focus, you return your attention back to the screen, only to see that he has flown right by you and is far ahead in the lead. Oh, this simply will not do, you think to yourself, and then an item box hands you a perfectly-timed golden mushroom, and you see your path to victory.

You drift around the sharp corners, giving yourself a speed boost each time, and it’s just enough. “Get fucked,” you say with a giggle as Princess Peach cruises her way past Bowser into first place. You use the last few seconds of your mushroom power to put a solid amount of distance between your characters. There’s less than half a lap left, and absolutely nothing he can do to deny you of your win.

Or so you think, until he reaches over and drags his hand across your controller, forcing your joystick in the opposite direction and causing Peach to start driving in circles on the screen.

“What the fuck!” You scream, trying to smack his hand away, but he closes one of your hands in his and forces that down on the joystick, making your car go fully backwards. “You fucking cheater!”

“You’re the cheater,” he grunts, which doesn’t even make any sense, but pisses you off enough to reach for his controller to mimic his strategy. However, you fail to account for his evolutionary advantage of having longer arms than you; he’s easily able to scoot away while keeping his hand pressed down on your own. You see in the game that he’s inches away from overtaking you now, the fingers of his other hand stretching to work joystick and button at once.

“No!” You cry out in frustration, desperately trying to wriggle your hand free. You can’t just sit here and watch him steal this out from under you, so you dive hard to one side and yank the controller away at the same time.

It’s only a little too late that you realize you have once again made an uncoordinated lunge and ended up with far too much leftover momentum. He does not relent, and you underestimated the severity of his grip on your hand because when you fall over he comes with you, both of you toppling onto the carpet as the controller flies out of your grasp.

You end up flat on your back, and his reflexes are only barely fast enough to respond, his hands bracing the floor on either side of your head so he can avoid landing on top of you.

But that’s even worse, because now Jungkook is hovering over you, and you’re both breathing heavy, and his hair is falling in his eyes, and you don’t even know how but his thigh has managed to end up pressed between your legs.

For a moment, you don’t move or say anything, and neither does he. You just stay like that, staring at each other. Your eyes drop to his mouth, and then he cracks a smug grin.

“I told you I don’t like to lose.”

Your stomach flips as your panic rears back in full force, and you meet his gaze again. “Am I still supposed to believe you didn’t bring me up here to hook up?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper.

The smile drops off his face as his eyes search yours. “What do you want?” He asks, and you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “Because you’re the one who keeps talking about it.”

You falter, unable to come up with any witty retort because you know he’s right. Jungkook moves away from you and you sit up with a sigh. He scoots back a few more inches, giving you plenty of space, and reaches for the remote to mute the TV.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, your voice still soft. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the carpet instead. “That’s just alcohol and adolescent sex drive talking. It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” He doesn’t sound mad, but confused, like he wants to understand your thought process. Good fucking luck, you think to yourself.

You give him a look. “Because I’m not an idiot. Hooking up with a frat boy in his frat house is never a good idea.”

The way his face falls makes you feel like the biggest bitch on planet earth, and you desperately wish you could shove the words back in your mouth, that you were capable of shutting up for once in your goddamn life.

“Is that really how you see me?”

Of course it’s not. You know it’s not, and you hope he knows it too, despite your inability to ever actually say what you fucking mean. But you can’t stop yourself. The defense mechanism is fully engaged now.

“Jungkook, you are literally a frat boy. We are literally in a frat house. This is not a perception character judgment thing. It’s an objective facts of reality thing.”

He fixes you in his gaze, saying nothing, then sighs. “Why do you do that?”

Your heart sinks. “Do what?”

He shakes his head, worrying at his lip ring again, clearly a nervous habit. “I don’t know, it’s like… Sometimes I think you like me, but then you always throw a wall up at the last second. I just wish I knew why.”

That makes two of us, you think bitterly, but your heart is simultaneously cracking apart at how vulnerable he’s being with no hesitation. You’re almost jealous that he can just move through life like this, open and honest, so unafraid.

“I do like you,” you admit, and you open your mouth to add the qualifier, to put the wall up, but he speaks first.

“I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a long time.” This kid is going to be the death of you. “I’m not just looking to score, or whatever."

You pull your knees to your chest, crossing your arms over them, trying to shrink until you no longer exist. You start to shake your head. “Jungkook, I don’t–”

“See,” he cuts you off, “you’re doing it right now.” You groan and bury your face in your arms. “What is that? We like each other, why can’t that be enough?”

The question hangs heavy, because you know there’s no good answer.

Finally, you look up at him and sigh. “Because,” you start decisively. “You’re… you. And I’m me.” You gesture between the two of you. “We’re from different worlds.”

His face scrunches up a little, and it’s his turn to shake his head slowly. “I really don’t think we are. I think you’re just telling yourself that.” You can see he’s getting frustrated and you don’t fucking blame him. “And I don’t get how you can complain about sitting by yourself in your dorm room, but then keep blocking everyone out so that you’re always alone.”

“I like being alone!” The lie comes out reflexively before you can even think to stop it. You’ve said it so many times at this point that it almost feels true. “Alone is best.” You pause, and for a second you really wonder if you’re going to cry right now, on the floor of Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom, in his stupid frat house. “You can’t get hurt, or disappointed, or left behind if you’re alone,” you conclude. There it is. The truth, kind of.

“I wouldn’t do any of those things to you,” he says softly.

You just stare at him for a moment. The promise is too good to be true. It always is. “You can’t know that.”

He pauses, then nods once, staring back at you. “You’re right. But I don’t want to do those things. And I would try really hard not to. I just want to make you feel good. Whatever that looks like.”

You can’t help where your stupid tequila brain immediately takes the idea, and you let out a dry laugh. “Well, if that’s what you’re after, there’s really no chance.”

His brows pinch together, clearly not understanding. “What does that mean?”

“Many have tried, none have succeeded,” you say with a roll of your eyes, stretching your legs back out. “I am a puzzle that no man can solve.”

The realization slowly dawns on him, and his eyes widen. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never had a–”

You wave a hand in the air as if to shush him, and you cut him off. “Stop. Don’t be dramatic. I’ve had plenty of orgasms, courtesy of my vibrator and my showerhead.” Your face is a little hot from talking about this in front of him. “Just… only alone. The running theme here, apparently.”

He tilts his head, processing this new information. “So do you fake it?” You tell yourself you’re just imagining that he sounds a little upset.

You grimace. “With my high school boyfriend, yeah. He was my first everything, and we were so young. I was too embarrassed to say it, so I just let him believe he had a magical dick that brought me to orgasm at the exact same time as him every time.”

Jungkook huffs a laugh of disbelief.

“And after that,” you continue, looking down in embarrassment, “I don’t know, it’s pretty much just been hookups, and most usually don’t bother to ask. Some have tried for a while, and then given up…” The memories make you cringe. “It’s just uncomfortable. Hence the alone thing.” You give a half shrug. “It’s okay. My vibrator is nice.”

He says nothing, and you mentally kick yourself for oversharing. This is why the wall goes up, you think, but when you look at him, he’s already looking at you, and not in the way you expected.

In fact, you’re surprised to see that glint in his eyes again. He licks his lips, and you realize your pulse is racing.

“The way I see it,” he begins slowly, his voice low and even, “we have two options.” You raise an eyebrow, your interest piqued, and he continues. “Option one. You let me know, for real, that you’re not interested. You don’t have to tell me why, but you do have to mean it. And I’ll leave you alone, and you can go home and write your paper.”

Your mouth goes dry as you try to prepare for what might come next.

“Or, option two.” You swear his eyes darken as he says it. “You admit to me that you like me, and that you want me. And you let me take care of you. Which includes keeping you in my bed for as long as it takes me to make you come. I don’t care if it takes hours. I’ve got hours.”

He shrugs like he hasn’t just said the most devastating thing you’ve ever heard. “We can figure out the rest after. It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. But it’s your call. I won’t be mad, whatever you choose. I just need to know.” He leans back on his hands, awaiting your choice.

“Jungkook,” you breathe. “You don’t know how tempting that offer is.” You try to say more, but he’s faster.

“Then say yes.”

You want to scream at him that it’s not that simple, that letting people all the way in is a door you slammed shut long ago, never to be opened again. But despite your best attempts, this cheeky, dorky, pierced and tattooed frat wonder boy has managed to wedge that door back open, just an inch. And it’s enough that now you can’t help but wonder what’s on the other side.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it really can be that simple with him. Maybe safe doesn’t always have to mean alone. Isn’t that why you came to this party in the first place?

You let out a slow exhale, and then for the first time in your life, you decide to get out of your own way.

“Okay,” you say, and you have to work to keep your voice from shaking. “Yes. But,” you quickly add before he has a chance to react, “I don’t want this to turn into a big thing if…” you trail off. “You know. If I can’t.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” He says with a self-assured smile, and you hate that it’s so hot. “I have a secret weapon.”

And then he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, and the end of a silver barbell winks at you.

Your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, you have a tongue piercing?!”

He smirks. “Got it a couple months ago. It’s fully healed now, so you get to be my maiden voyage.” You cringe and he laughs self-consciously. “Sorry, that sounded cooler in my head.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re laughing too as his hands reach for your ankles. He gently starts to pull you towards him and you cross your legs, scooting the rest of the way forward until your knees are touching his.

“Can I please kiss you now?” Jungkook asks, but you take his face in your hands and beat him to it.

Given his competitive streak, a part of you had expected everything about this to be rough and hard, but the way he kisses you is so gentle, it’s romantic. You’d forgotten what it’s like to be kissed like this, intimate and slow, not just a tongue shoved down your throat. Jungkook is continuing to prove to you what he already has time and time again: he is nothing like any man you’ve ever met.

You are really curious about that piercing, though, so you tilt your head and tentatively lick into his mouth. When you bump against the metal post he whines a little, and goddamn, you need to be in his bed right fucking now.

He must have the same thought because his hands run firmly over your hips and you both maneuver to your feet without breaking apart. You let him guide you backwards until your knees hit the end of the bed, and you sit down and gaze up at him, breathless from his kisses.

You’re a little nervous, you realize, but then you see the way he’s looking at you. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your face flushes.

Jungkook ducks his head to kiss you again, moving you to lay down, and his hand finds the small of your back beneath you. You can’t help but smile when he uses the arm wrapped around you to effortlessly lift you up and scoot you backwards to the head of the bed. You lean against the pillows as his tongue returns to your mouth.

His fingers start to play gently at the hem of your shirt as if asking a question. You nod and he pushes it up, your lips breaking apart only for as long as it takes to pull it over your head before finding each other again.

You reach to do the same for him, but he makes an “uh-uh” noise into your mouth, then pulls away. “I want this to be about you.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, that is incredibly sweet, and it can absolutely be about me. But I think you will severely hurt your chances of bringing me to orgasm if you’re wearing that creamsicle nightmare shirt while you’re doing it."

He raises his eyebrows for a split second like he’s weighing whether or not he should accept that challenge, but then he shrugs with a grin and pulls his shirt off over his head. His body is ridiculous, lithe and toned, and he inhales sharply when you run your hands up his chest.

You realize now, as he unhooks your bra and tosses it off the edge of the bed, then starts to kiss down your jaw, that Jungkook is vocal. He makes these breathy little sighs against your skin as he goes, and when you do something like scratch your nails over his back or dip your head to trace your tongue along his neck, he outright moans. The low, raw sound makes your pussy throb.

Noise during sex has always been weird for you; you felt like guys expected you to be loud, which is hard to do convincingly when you’re nowhere near satisfied. But none of the sounds he’s making now seem in any way performative. You can tell it’s just him enjoying your shared pleasure the same way he does everything– unashamedly.

So when he sucks gently at the place where your neck and shoulder meet, lightly running his piercing over the sensitive skin there, your eyes flutter closed, and you don’t hold back the noise he pulls out of you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, and you feel him smile.

You’re overwhelmed by all the different sensations his mouth can make against your skin. He kisses, licks, drags his tongue ring, and bites along your neck and your collarbones, working you until you couldn’t keep quiet even if you wanted to. His hands slide up your waist, coming to cup your breasts, and he tries similar experiments with his thumbs over your nipples: barely-there tapping, then firmer pressure in slow circles, then light pinches that make you gasp and writhe.

He’s clearly educating himself, paying close attention to your responses to figure out the best ways to touch you and take you apart. No one has ever cared this much about what actually felt good to you before; this is a far cry from the half-hearted two minutes of foreplay you’re accustomed to. He really does act like he’s got all the time in the world.

The thought of him touching and kissing you like this for hours is dizzying. Even if he can’t make you come, you don’t fucking care, everything he’s doing still feels incredible. It’s a hell of a lot better than writing a paper.

Jungkook groans into your skin as he mouths down to your breasts, and when he shifts, you can feel his erection grind against your thigh. The knowledge that he’s just as turned on by this as you are, paired with a deft flick of his piercing over your nipple, makes you whine loudly. Your core is already aching to be touched, licked, fucked– anything.

He reaches to unbutton your pants while his lips and tongue still work at the bud of your breast in his mouth. Your hips lift up at his touch and he pulls your jeans down, dropping your nipple from between his teeth so you can kick them the rest of the way off.

His hands slip under the band of your panties with a grunt so heady it’s nearly a growl, but instead of pulling them down, he loops the fabric around his fingers once and pulls up, so the lace is pressed tight against your dripping cunt. Even that small amount of friction makes you whimper, your hips rocking in desperate search of relief.

“Can I take these off?” He pairs the question with another firm tug, so the lace rubs right over your clit as your hips circle.

You don’t even have the breath to answer, you want it so bad; you can only nod.

He pulls your panties off, tossing them to join the rest of your clothes on the floor before moving down between your spread legs. You’re so wet for him now that just his breath on your core is enough to make you moan.

You brush his hair off his forehead and watch as he brings his mouth to your thighs, trailing lips and teeth upwards. With each pass, he comes so close to where you want him, where you need him, but deliberately stops just shy, teasing you. He runs his tongue along the crease where your hip and thigh meet, and the drag of his piercing on your skin makes you cry out, delirious with anticipation.

But then his mouth goes in the wrong direction. Rather than close the small amount of distance left to finally, finally make contact with your cunt, he shifts away from it. His lips and tongue trail back over your hips, your stomach, and up the valley between your breasts. You lift your head in disbelief to watch him, and you don’t think you’re going to make it– you’ve never been denied pleasure like this before. Your eyes start to sting like they might well up with tears.

He keeps going, lips moving from your neck to your jaw and then finally back to your mouth. You turn your head to the side, your breathing ragged.

“Jungkook,” you nearly sob, “please.”

His voice is hoarse when he murmurs in your ear with a dark laugh, “I was wondering how long it would take you to beg for it. You really held out on me.” He kisses you again and you whine in frustration as he sucks on your bottom lip. He pulls away with a smile. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”

Your head swims; you try to form words through your desperation. “I– fuck, anything, anything. Please, Jungkook, please.” You sound so wrecked, so needy, but if he wants you to beg, you’ll do it, gladly. You’re going to die if he doesn’t touch you soon. Your hips shudder up against his, your nails dragging down his back.

“Good girl, love it when you say my name like that,” he groans into the crook of your neck, and your pussy clenches around nothing, your brain short-circuiting at the praise.

He doesn’t drag it out any longer– you don’t think you’d survive if he did– and instead just shifts to settle back between your legs. His hands come to your thighs and you’re so keyed up that you jump under his touch as he spreads you wide open. You’re nearly clawing at the bedsheets in preparation to finally feel him after so long, but instead of his fingers or his tongue, something wet hits your clit.

It takes a second for your brain to process that he spit on you. Fuck.

You look up to see him looking at you, wide-eyed, like he’s only just realized what he did. “Sorry, I should’ve asked first. Was that okay?”

It was fucking hot, actually, but you’re so far gone that you can’t make the words happen. You can only nod and roll your hips up toward him.

“Jungkook, please,” you manage to whimper one final time, and he dips his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against your skin, “I’ve got you.” And then he closes his lips around your clit.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, relief flooding through you like a shot in the arm. His movements aren’t that different from how he first kissed you, gentle and sweet, and your clit throbs when his lip ring rolls over it.

Jungkook’s mouth falls into a steady rhythm, and he’s groaning against your pussy like it feels good for him, too. Enthusiastic is the only way to describe the way he eats you out; you really do believe he could do this all day.

Alternating with the movement of his lips, he starts to incorporate long, slow licks of his tongue across your folds. There’s enough spit and slickness that his piercing slides right over your clit, and it’s a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before that has you bucking against his mouth. He whines mid-lick when you do, and the vibration rips through you, your back arching in response.

That earns you two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, and for the second time tonight, you think you might die. Your legs start to shake as his fingers curl inside you.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you groan. You don’t recognize your own voice; you’ve never made noise like this before, but nothing’s ever felt this good. You’re coming undone in his hands, under his tongue.

He changes up the rhythm on your clit, moving between fluidly swirling his piercing over it and pulling it into his mouth for hard suction. The pleasure is still overwhelming, but something about the switch-up takes you out of your body and into your head, and you falter for a moment.

He’s been at this for a while, and he does seem to be enjoying himself, but even so, you start to feel self-conscious. Are you taking too long? Is his tongue getting tired? What if you still can’t come from this?

Your momentary silence and lack of movement must be enough to send Jungkook’s competitive edge into overdrive, because he grabs your thigh with his free hand as if to pull you even closer and fully buries his face in your cunt.

He flattens his tongue against you and starts to shake his head aggressively, wiggling his tongue with it, and the barbell tapping rhythmically at your clit has you gasping for air and grabbing at the bedsheets.

As if that wasn’t enough, he adds a third finger inside you, slowing down for just a moment to make sure you’re accustomed to the stretch. He runs his free hand up your thigh and lays it flat below your stomach, pressing down firmly on your lower abdomen. You don’t know what to expect– no one’s ever done it to you before, but when he resumes rocking his fingers back and forth against your front wall under that extra pressure, you nearly drench his hand in arousal, it feels so good.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck!” You moan, and you wonder if the whole party downstairs can hear. You sound like a goddamn pornstar, the kind of noises that are so ridiculous you’d think they were fake if you weren’t experiencing the insane, all-encompassing pleasure yourself firsthand. Here, in Jungkook’s bed, in his fucking frat house, getting eaten out like you’re his last fucking meal.

You can’t even remember what you were worrying about now. There’s no space left in your brain for it, and your pussy is already starting to flutter around his fingers as you feel the pressure building in your core.

Out of sheer desperation, you wind a hand through his hair and lift your hips up against his mouth, matching his rhythm. He looks up at you and moans around your clit, nodding his head, clearly trying to encourage you without letting his tempo slow.

His breathing is ragged and loud as you grip his hair and rock your hips, bumping your clit against his pierced tongue again and again and again, exactly the way you need it.

Your moans increase in pitch and pace as you feel your orgasm crest. He responds back in time, encouraging you, his voice coming from some raw, primal place as he grunts open-mouthed, “uh-huh, uh-huh” against your clit, and you can hear his fingers working your cunt so well, and it’s all too fucking much.

You come so hard, it makes you question if you’ve ever actually had an orgasm before. Hands gripping at the sheets, toes curling, legs shaking violently, back arching up off the mattress, all with a loud moan that’s more like a sob. You have never in your life felt anything this good.

Jungkook slows but doesn’t stop as the aftershocks roll through you, slowly moving his head up and down to lick flat, long stripes over your clit as you continue to shudder against his face. Your thighs pull together reflexively when you become too sensitive, and that’s when he finally relents, pulling off and out of you.

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe and wondering if you really did die after all. There’s a loud bang on the door, but you’re too blissed out to even give a fuck, and it’s just one of his frat bros yelling “alright, JK!” from the other side.

At least they’re supportive of a woman’s pleasure, you think, and then you can’t help but laugh at the sheer insanity of it all. Jungkook slides up the bed to lay next to you, and he’s smiling as he wipes his face with his hand.

“I guess you didn’t fake that one, huh?”

You can only shake your head as you struggle to get your breath back.

“Holy shit, I feel like I should say thank you,” you eventually manage, and he laughs his perfect laugh. You roll over to bury your face in his shoulder. “What the fuck, Jungkook– I think I saw my life flash before my eyes. That was fucking crazy.”

Jungkook flips onto his side facing you, propped up on one arm, his other hand gently running back and forth along the curve of your waist. “What can I say? I play to win.” He can’t hide his satisfied smile as the official winner of your first ever non-solo orgasm.

You lean against him, allowing your eyes to close again as your pulse slows, and you sigh contentedly as he presses his lips to your hairline.

“What time is it?” He asks after a few minutes. “Do you need to go write your paper?”

You tilt back to shoot him a death glare. “Do not mention my fucking paper right now, Jeon Jungkook. I’m trying to bask in the glow here.”

He laughs again and pulls you closer. “My bad.”

“And besides,” your face softens, and your eyes trace down to his hand that’s now gently palming over the front of his pants, where you can see the bulge of his erection. “I believe you promised me hours.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, I’ll give you hours.”

Your pussy doesn’t feel anywhere near recovered, but you’re somehow also aching for him to fuck you. If that was only his head game, you genuinely don’t think you’ll survive sex with Jungkook. But you’re willing to die trying.

“Come here,” his voice returns to that near-growl and he crawls over you, one hand cupping your jaw as he brings his lips to yours.

This time when his thigh presses between your legs, it’s on purpose. Your clit still twitches at the contact, but the pressure is indirect enough that it only feels good, and you rock your hips slowly into him.

You’re desperate to see him, touch him, return the favor, and your hand slips between your bodies to grab him through his pants. You whine against his lips when you feel how thick he is in your hand, and you pull little gasps out of him as you slowly start to pump him over the fabric.

“Please fuck me, Jungkook,” you whisper when you break apart, begging for it the way you’ve learned he likes, your hand still working him.

He bites down hard on your neck with a laugh, like he can’t believe you’re real.

You start to unbutton and push down his pants and then he flips onto his back to do the rest, shedding pants and boxers at the same time. You can’t help but giggle a little at his apparent urgency, pleased that he needs you just as bad, as he yanks his nightstand drawer out, retrieves a condom, and rips it open with his teeth.

But that urgency is gone once he’s hovering over you, cock teasing at your entrance, your knees bent and legs spread for him. It’s replaced by that same look in his eyes, those same gentle kisses, and arousal pooling in your belly at the realization that he really could do this for hours. But you need him now.

“Please,” you whisper one more time, and he groans against your throat as he pushes into you.

His pace is slow, hips rolling fluidly, and you’re still so sensitive that your walls flutter around him with each thrust. The thickness of his cock feels just as good as you thought it would. You moan loudly, arching back against the pillow, as his head drags over your sweet spot.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice ragged. He keeps rolling his hips, stroking so slow and deep that it’s pleasure and torture all in one. 

Jungkook must be a fast learner, because when he thrusts into you one more time and you whine in response, the same strangled noise you made when he teased your cunt, he knows what you need. You don’t even have to beg for it.

His hands slide along the backs of your thighs and he pushes, just a little, folding your legs up so your pelvis tilts to give him full access to your cunt. And then he picks up the pace.

The pleasure is overwhelming as he bottoms out inside you over and over, and you’re already close to the edge of a second climax. You rake your nails down his back and his hips move even faster, both of you moaning with every thrust. The sound of skin on skin is so loud it’s obscene; there’s no way the whole party doesn’t know what you’re up to by now.

You don’t give a shit. You hope they’re all jealous.

Your legs start to shake as the pressure in your core builds, and you’re suddenly in dire need of release all over again. You move to reach a hand down between your legs, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a thing.

He lets go of one of your thighs to knock your hand away, replacing it with his own, his thrusts never slowing. You watch this time as he spits on your clit again, and then starts to rub circles over it.

It’s a touch you’ve felt before, fast and hard, usually performed by a guy who has no idea what he’s doing, and usually painful as all hell.

But Jungkook is very obviously a fucking expert in his field, and he must know that when you’re as slick as you are from his mouth and your own arousal, and you’ve already come once, and you’re this insanely turned on and desperate for it, it doesn’t hurt at all. Your hips lift up off the bed because right now, it’s fucking perfect.

“Oh my fucking god, Jungkook, fuck, yes, don’t stop–” you cry out, and your last moan is nearly a scream as you come all the way undone for him. Your cunt squeezes tightly around his length, and he only has to rut into you a few more times before he’s coming, too, with a loud groan of your name.

His head drops onto your shoulder as he finishes, gasping for breath. You lean back against the pillows, still shuddering a little but entirely spent, fucked out of your mind.

You’re only vaguely aware of what’s happening when he pulls out of you, or when the bed shifts as he gets up to dispose of the condom, then collapses back down next to you with a dazed sigh.

You roll into him, still lost for words, and he wraps both arms around you. You can hear his heart thudding hard in his chest, the same tempo as yours.

A laugh rips through you as you play the last few moments back and remember his hand shoving your own away. You look up at him. “So what are you, in charge of my orgasms now? Did I sign a contract tonight?”

“No,” he gives a small smile, and you see a blush creep up his neck at the reminder of something done clearly in the heat of the moment. “I don’t know. No one had ever made you come once before, so… I just wanted to do it twice. Set a new number to beat.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the grin on your face. “I’m not a video game, Jungkook.”

“Nope,” he laughs, tightening his grip around you. “You are so much better.” He ducks down to kiss you gently.

You’re still smiling when he moves to rest his chin on your head. “And you are better than my vibrator.”

There’s a comfortable pause, and then you decide you may as well do what you do best and ruin everything. “So, is now the time when I ask you the phrase that every frat boy dreads to hear?” You start, and he’s already looking at you when you glance up again. “What are we?”

He shrugs, looking totally nonplussed. “That’s up to you. I will literally go out there right now and announce to the entire party that you’re my girlfriend and I’m the first man to ever make you come, if that’s what you want.”

You press your face to his chest and laugh self-consciously. “Well, I think they already know about the second part. I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

His lips brush against your temple. “Don’t be. I want them all to know who’s fucking you right.”

You sigh, wondering how on earth this kid is real. There’s a big part of you, especially with the high of two orgasms rattling around in your brain, that wants to take the leap right now, straight into the unknown. You want to trust him fully, but you’re still scared of the uncertainty, the potential for disaster. It’s been a long time since you let someone all the way in.

“But the G word…” you say nervously. “That’s a lot for me, at least right now.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply, and when you meet his gaze, the look on his face betrays no hurt feelings or hidden agenda. It makes you feel like it really is okay. “We can be whatever you want,” he continues. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You can feel yourself getting emotional, and you bring your cheek to his chest again, hoping he can’t tell. “Well, whatever label we put on it, you are eating me out like that at least once a week.”

“Once a week?” He huffs softly. “How about once a day?” He shifts slightly to trail kisses along your neck. “Actually,” he murmurs in your ear, “I could go for seconds right now…”

You laugh and shove against his chest. “Hey, I’m still getting used to this brave new world over here. If you make me come again tonight I think I might literally die in your bed.” He relents with a smug smile and a kiss pressed to your cheek.

“But if you wanted to wake me up that way tomorrow…” you offer, and he gets that goddamn look in his eyes, the one that may forever be known as the look that ruined your life.

“Oh, I think we can make that happen.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #the spins

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | seven [fin]

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

Summary: Melancholy shrouds you and Yoongi in your last days of vacation – time to get back home to the daily grind. But when you can visit Yoongi in his garage, is it really so bad?

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.

Genre/AU: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff

Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Status: complete!

Word Count: 11.3K

Warnings (general): angst and uncertainty, pregnancy test and pregnancy scare. Warnings (explicit): explicit rough sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, ass slapping, impreg kink (new for me, so it might be light and soft), nipple play, Yoongi’s garage and a certain car 👀 (yes this is a warning and you’ll understand it when you read it 🥵), hair pulling, slight possessiveness 👀, lots of ass grabbing, some brief cockwarming too.

Author’s note(1): This is the end of the road, guys 😭 It has truly been a rollercoaster for me, and I’m so pleased with these last chapters and I feel like this is a good way to end things for this couple and their teasing friends. 

Also, there’s a line of dialogue in this chapter (one of Yoongi’s 🥵) that spawned another fic that I actually wrote to get out of my writers block before I could finish friendcation – It’s ‘Say that Again (I Dare You)’, if you’re interested you can go ahead and give it a read 🙂 (It has nothing to do with friendcation and everything to do with me being an insatiable hoe 😇).

Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜

Author’s note #2 (very important): when I wrote this chapter, I’d simultaneously been reading @kithtaehyung’s 3tan series, and without even realizing it, I had written a scene similar to hers. They do it on a desk—, and I know, yes, in many fics the characters do it on a desk, but to me, this was enough for me to say something was wrong with my work. It wasn’t even that similar in the wording or the specific scene, but to be on the safe side, I have rewritten the scene in question. ✨

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @bergandysam, @massivelyfullenthusiast, @tatyhend, @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **you can still be added to the taglist, just drop a comment here, on any chapter or the masterlist and I’ll add you 🌸

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.

“The second statement is a lie,” you laugh, your conviction cutting through the night air. The rest of your group joins in with a collective hum of agreement. 

“You just don’t strike me as the threesome type,” you assert, adding a touch of finality to your words. 

Namjoon casts a curious gaze your way, his eyebrows lifting ever so slightly. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, a hint of skepticism coloring his words. 

You nod affirmatively, your confidence unwavering. It’s hard to fathom Namjoon engaging in such endeavors; his other statements seem to carry a more authentic resonance. 

Your eyes widen in disbelief, almost popping out of their sockets, as Namjoon casually shrugs his shoulders, his laughter resonating through the air. “Well, I have,” he admits, reclining in his seat with an air of nonchalance. 

Your gasp is almost audible, a testament to the revelation that shatters your preconceived notions. “Wow,” you utter in awe, realizing that even those you thought you knew well can still surprise you with hidden facets.

“I just didn’t think you were into that, maybe Hoseok, but you, Joonie?” you say in a breathy voice, the disbelief evident. 

The mention of Hoseok prompts an indignant “Hey!” from him, and you can’t help but chuckle. 

Namjoon continues to laugh, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he playfully challenges Hoseok, “It’s your turn, Hobi.”

All eyes, except Yoongi's, focused on the road, shift to Hoseok, waiting for the next set of revelations as he contemplates his three statements. The rhythmic hum of the engine underscores the silence, creating a suspenseful atmosphere within the confines of Holly. 

As you all hum with curiosity, anticipating Hoseok’s next revelation, he unveils another layer of himself. “I once dated a man,” he confesses, a momentary hush falling over the group, the revelation hanging in the air like a delicate thread. 

The subsequent statement, “I’m scared of snakes,” elicits laughter, the image of Hoseok’s comical encounters with the slithering creatures at the zoo playing in everyone’s minds. 

Then, in a surprising twist, Hoseok drops the bombshell, “I was contacted to choreograph a music video.” 

Holly is filled with gasps and widened eyes as the weight of this unexpected admission settles among the group. 

The van is a buzz of whispers and exchanged glances as you and your friends dive into a lively debate, dissecting each of Hoseok’s revelations with an air of camaraderie. 

Yoongi’s voice, a steady anchor amid the animated chatter, breaks through as he shares a practical update.

“We’re almost there,” he interjects, his gaze fixed on the winding road.

You catch a glimpse of his focused expression, the contours of his profile bathed in the soft glow of passing streetlights in the dim morning.

“Just stopping by a store first.” 

Yoongi continues, his words weaving seamlessly into the ongoing banter. 

Seokjin’s laughter erupts like a spontaneous melody, harmonizing with the hum of the van’s engine.

Namjoon chimes in, “But the fear of snakes? That’s so Hobi. Remember that one time at the zoo?” The memory elicits another round of laughter, lightening the atmosphere.

You interject with a thoughtful musing, “The music video thing could also be true.”

Namjoon’s analytical mind chimes in, “But he could also have dated a man, I’m sure he’s mentioned that sometime.” His words ripple through Holly, introducing an element of doubt that swirls around Hoseok’s revelations.

Seokjin’s confident assertion pierces through the deliberations, echoing with finality. “We think the statement with the music video is a lie,” he declares. The collective nodding of heads and the subtle hum of agreement create a shared consensus among you. 

The decision is made, and the spotlight now shifts to Hoseok, awaiting his response.

“That one was actually true,” Hoseok’s revelation hangs in the air, a surprising twist that elicits a collective gasp and a wave of laughter. 

Your voice, laced with a cocktail of disbelief and genuine curiosity, slices through the air like a finely tuned instrument. 

“Hold up, you haven’t actually dated a man?” you query, your eyes widening in a mix of incredulity and intrigue.

“Not yet, but I’m open to the possibility,” he grins, radiating a warmth that rivals the sun itself.

“Wait... Does that mean you’re going to choreograph a music video?” Namjoon slaps him on the shoulder, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, causing him to wince.

Hoseok nods, his expression bright and proud. “They reached out to me before the vacation, and a few days ago, they confirmed that I got the job.”

“Wow!” you exclaim, your face bright and brimming with genuine happiness for your friend.

“That’s absolutely amazing.” Seokjin adds gleefully, his excitement mirroring the collective joy in the van.

“Congrats.” Yoongi adds from the driver’s seat, his voice filled with genuine warmth and a hint of pride for Hoseok’s achievement.

“Thank you.” Hoseok says proudly, launching into enthusiastic explanations about his new job, his eyes lighting up with passion for the upcoming project.

“We’re here.” Yoongi announces, effortlessly maneuvering Holly into a parking spot before cutting off the engine, the sudden silence emphasizing the arrival at your destination.

You all spill out of the van, a lively group on a shared mission, and step into the store, ready to stock up on essentials and treats for the upcoming days of your adventure.

As you step into the store, the unspoken choreography of your group takes over, each member moving with purpose to efficiently tackle the shopping list. 

You and Yoongi, armed with a basket and a secret mission for a pregnancy test, navigate the aisles in search of canned goods, weaving through the vibrant array of products. Meanwhile, the rest of the team secures a cart, ready to explore the realms of meat and veggies. 

In no time, you and Yoongi expertly pluck a selection of canned goods from the shelves, tossing them into your basket with practiced ease. As you navigate the aisles, hand in hand, your journey takes a deliberate detour to the toiletries and sanity section. There, amidst the array of products, you both zero in on the elusive pregnancy test with the finesse of seasoned shoppers.

As you reach for a package, an unexpected weight settles in your hand, the incongruity of such a small item bearing a significant burden dawning on you. 

In this moment, the weight transcends the physical, carrying with it the gravity of what it represents—questions, possibilities, and the potential to alter the course of your relationship with Yoongi.

Locking eyes with Yoongi, you muster the courage to break the news subtly. “Is it okay if I head up to pay for it now? I’d rather keep it between us for now,” you confess, your voice carrying a blend of vulnerability and anticipation. 

His response is a reassuring squeeze of your hand, a silent affirmation that he understands. “Of course. Go pay for it, and I’ll round up the others. We’ll join you outside,” he assures, the unspoken promise of solidarity evident in his gaze.

With a tender yet uncertain smile, you part ways from Yoongi, fully aware that within the confines of this unassuming package rests the key to your shared destiny.

You hasten to the cashier, swiftly complete the transaction for the test, and then make your way to Holly, anticipation knotting your stomach as you await the arrival of your friends.

In no time, your friends conclude their shopping, and you assist in loading the van with groceries. Safely tucked away in one of your bags is the pregnancy test, a secret that remains concealed from prying eyes.

Returning to Holly, Yoongi takes the wheel, steering you toward a hidden forest oasis where he skillfully parks, creating a cocoon of tranquility amid the lush surroundings.

As the sun bathes the surroundings in a golden glow, setting up camp in the middle of the day proves delightful, offering ample light to illuminate your tasks. With a symphony of coordination, each of you contributes to unloading Holly and assembling the tent, a well-practiced ritual that transforms the serene landscape into a cozy haven.

While the guys gather around a crackling campfire, savoring light snacks and sipping on cold beers, you find it challenging to fully unwind. The weight of the pregnancy test preoccupies your mind, its presence an insistent reminder. An undercurrent of nervous anticipation builds within you, urging you to take the test and unravel the mystery that has woven itself into the fabric of your thoughts.

You rise from your seat with purpose, drawing a few curious glances, notably from Yoongi, yet determinedly stride towards the van. 

Each step feels charged with the weight of the moment, the bag clutched in the comfort of the van holding not just your belongings but the potential key to your future.

Startled, you almost jump at the warm and familiar voice that breaks through your reverie. Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. 

“Can I come with you?” he asks, his presence both surprising and comforting.

His hands find your waist, their warmth and rough texture grounding you in the present. With a reassuring touch, he gently nudges you, calming the swirling thoughts that had momentarily carried you away.

You arch an eyebrow at him, your fingers tightly clenched around the pregnancy test. 

“You wanna watch me pee?”

He chuckles at your furrowed expression, gently turning you around to face him. With a tender touch, he brushes stray strands of hair away from your face, locking eyes with you as he nods, a silent reassurance passing between you.

“That’s gross, Yoongi. You don’t have to watch me pee.” You mumble, keeping your voice low to avoid the others catching on.

“If you’re pregnant, watching you pee on a stick will be the least grossest thing I’ll see.” Yoongi teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

Admitting defeat, you concede, and let him accompany you into the serene depths of the forest, away from the prying eyes of your friends and the campsite.

His hand, warm and reassuring, intertwines with yours, a conduit for the palpable love that flows between you. Seeking solace beside a sturdy tree, you carefully retrieve the test, holding it up for closer scrutiny.

“I’m scared.” 

You admit, the words almost a whisper in the quiet of the forest. Yoongi’s gaze softens with understanding, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I understand,” he reassures, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze, “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

“Okay?” he murmurs, his gentle touch stroking your cheek before he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your trembling lips. In that simple moment, he somehow eases the fear swirling within you. You nod, a wave of gratitude washing over you for his unwavering presence.

You carefully open the package, extracting the instructions and scrutinizing them. This marks your first experience with a pregnancy test, and you’re determined to ensure every step is executed correctly.

“I should’ve brought a cup or something to collect the pee,” you groan at the inconvenient realization. “Oh well,” you chuckle, pulling down your pants to relieve yourself against the tree. Yoongi efficiently unpacks the test and hands it to you, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

In a million scenarios, you never imagined finding yourself in a forest, peeing on a stick while Yoongi watches. It’s almost laughable, the twists life takes.

Your voice wavers with uncertainty as you pull your pants back up, glancing at the test. 

“Can you set a timer? Three minutes.” You request, the seconds ticking away with the weight of anticipation.

Yoongi swiftly retrieves his phone, the soft glow illuminating his focused expression as he expertly sets a timer, the seconds ticking in sync with the nervous beats of your heart.

Restlessly, you tread back and forth, clutching the test in your hand, each step echoing the restless beats of your heart, anxiously awaiting the passage of time.

Yoongi’s reassuring touch envelopes your waist, leading you to another tree, one untouched by your earlier predicament. “Relax,” he murmurs, settling you down against the sturdy trunk, both of you finding solace in its shelter.

A flicker of curiosity brightens your eyes as you break the silence. 

“Aren’t you nervous?” You inquire, secretly craving insight into his seemingly calm demeanor, a shared vulnerability between you two.

“Not really.” He shrugs, a nonchalant exterior belying the subtle lean against your shoulder, a silent reassurance echoing louder than words ever could.

Then silence envelops you, a palpable tension that’s not uncomfortable, but rather pregnant with anticipation, each passing second stretching the boundaries of waiting.

As the timer beeps, you gasp, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the sound echoing the suspense that has built up within you.

With trembling hands, you bring the test closer to your face, inspecting the results. Your heart gallops like a herd of wild stallions, and your breath quickens in anticipation. 

Are you ready for this revelation? 

Ready or not, here it is—just one line. 

Not pregnant.

Your heart plummets at the stark results, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. 

The sting of tears gathers at the corners of your eyes, and a single teardrop slips free.

Yoongi swiftly brushes away your tears, his touch a comforting blend of warmth and reassurance, his fingers tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek.

“Not the results you were hoping for?” 

Yoongi’s voice carries a mixture of empathy and concern, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for the emotions hidden within.

Tears cascade down your cheeks in a torrent, your sobs escaping in uncontrollable waves. With a mix of frustration and despair, you discard the test, shielding your face in trembling hands. “I don’t know,” you confess through the emotional turmoil, your vulnerability laid bare.

He cradles your hands, gently freeing your tear-stained face from its hiding place. Drawing you into a cocoon of warmth, he envelops your trembling form in a tender embrace. His fingertips dance soothingly along your back, a silent promise of unwavering support as you release the weight of your emotions on his shoulder.

“It was negative,” you choke on a stifled cry, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You were hoping for a positive.” He murmurs warmly against your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine. Damn it, he’s right. The test has consumed your thoughts for days, and a part of you had secretly wished for a positive result. Fuck.

“I didn’t realize I wanted that,” you sob, clinging to his embrace as if your very existence depended on it.

“It’s okay, babe. To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed too,” he confesses in a tender voice as you slowly pull away from him, locking eyes.

In his eyes, you search for any sign that he’s just saying that to make you happy, but the determination, love, and care in those beautiful brown eyes tell a different story. He wanted the test to be positive too. He wants to have a kid with you. The thought finally hits you, and you begin to cry again.

You ask in disbelief, your body still shaking with the aftermath of tears, “You want to have a baby with me?”

“Yeah,” he looks at you tenderly again, kissing your tear-stained cheek. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I mean, we haven’t been together long,” you begin as your crying turns into small sobs, your heart slowing down gradually.

“Babe, we’ve known each other for over ten years. Spent so fucking much time loving each other, without telling the other. It’s not about the time, it’s you.”

At this, tears well up again, a cascade of emotions unleashed by his beautiful words. 

Your heart leaps and somersaults because, damn it, he’s right. Maybe you haven’t been ‘officially’ together for that long, but the bond you share spans years. It feels natural, like the coming together of two souls that have known each other intimately for decades.

As he speaks, his words paint a vision of a future you never dared to imagine. 

“I want kids in the future, and I want them with you,” he declares, his sincerity echoing through the forest. You sob at the beauty of his words, your heart swelling with emotion. 

“You’ll be an awesome and fearless mom. You’re strong, incredible, and your heart is so big and full of love,” he continues, each compliment a brushstroke in the portrait of your relationship. 

“With you, I want everything. Why waste any more time?” he asks, his soft chuckle carrying the weight of a promise for a future filled with love and possibility.

In the wake of his heartfelt confession, you’re overwhelmed by the cascade of loving and wonderful words that have poured from his lips. You yearn for everything he’s just described, and the intensity of your desire propels you into a kiss that speaks volumes. 

It’s not just a simple meeting of lips; it’s a fervent exploration, a hunger for all of him. 

The kiss is messy, tears and saliva mingling to create a salty sweetness on your tongues. Yet, in this raw and unfiltered moment, you find solace because, for the first time, you’re not just kissing; you’re tasting the promise of a shared future.

“Damn. I want that too.”

Your moan escapes into his mouth, a symphony of pleasure, as your hands entwine in his long hair, pulling with an urgency that draws a deep groan from him, echoing in the intimate space of your kiss.

As you softly pull away, the realization hits that the tears have ceased, replaced by a new and electric tension. A surge of desire courses through you, prompting you to grind your body against his, teasing and stoking the flames of arousal that now dance between you.

“What does this mean?” 

You ask, the taste of salt still lingering on your lips as you lick them. The remnants of your earlier mood dissipate, making room for a lighter and happier atmosphere.

“That I’ll fuck you raw,” he smirks at you, his eyes turning dark with desire.

“Make you nice and round.” he strokes your stomach before cupping your clothed core.

You release a sultry moan, “Fuck, yes.”

You stroll alongside Yoongi, hand in hand, your cheeks likely marked with the remnants of tears, yet you’re beaming, the joy evident. With Yoongi by your side, nothing else holds significance.

As you return to your friends, you catch the intrigued glances they shoot your way, a silent curiosity lingering in the air, though no words are exchanged.

You settle into the chair with Yoongi, the contours of his lap perfectly accommodating your form as you nuzzle your head against his chest, finding solace in the rhythmic beat of his heart.

You feel the weight of curious eyes on you, a silent conversation unfolding in their gazes, laden with unspoken words yearning to break free.

“We’re thinking about heading home tomorrow.” Hoseok starts, his voice carrying a subtle air of decision with each sip of his beer.

“So you can savor a few days of solitude before your vacation bids farewell.” Namjoon chimes in, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You exchange glances with him and offer a gentle, appreciative smile. Your heart swells with gratitude for the sweetness and thoughtfulness your friends never fail to show.

Seokjin chimes in with a smile, “I miss my girlfriend too.”

“We’ll drive you to the station tomorrow.” Yoongi says, his hands intertwining with yours, a gesture that speaks volumes of comfort and support.

As the night unfolds, a cascade of laughter and clinking beer bottles paints the scene. Hoseok, with his infectious energy, pulls you into a dance, and the rhythm of the music becomes the soundtrack to a night filled with camaraderie and unforgettable moments. Laughter echoes around the campfire, weaving together a tapestry of joy that lingers in the memories of friendship.

“Friday at the bar, don’t be late!” 

Hoseok’s enthusiasm resonates in his voice as he envelops you in a warm, anticipatory hug. Then, he turns his exuberance towards Yoongi, squeezing him tightly, a bear hug that elicits a gruff grunt from your usually composed boyfriend.

“Absolutely, can’t wait for the gang to reunite!” Your words ring with genuine joy as you share heartfelt hugs with Namjoon and Seokjin. Even Yoongi, typically reserved, offers reluctant but sincere goodbyes in the form of tight hugs.

As their figures gradually blend into the bustling station crowd, you continue waving, the distance adding a bittersweet tinge to your farewell. The echoes of laughter and shared moments linger, fading with each step they take, leaving you with a mix of nostalgia and anticipation for the next reunion.

“What should we do now? So much alone time.” 

Yoongi’s voice, soft and filled with the promise of undisturbed moments, lingers in the air as you both face the van. The question carries the weight of endless possibilities, a canvas awaiting the strokes of your shared desires in the quietude of alone time.

As you both enter Holly, the air crackles with a newfound anticipation. Leaning into Yoongi’s side, you murmur your plan, your words a bold invitation that sets the atmosphere ablaze. 

“You drive us back to our campsite,” you start, the door closing behind you, “and then I’ll fuck you senseless.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound a tempting melody in response to your boldness and the unmistakable glint of desire in your eyes. “Bossy,” he teases, the word laced with a promise of playful surrender.

As he ignites the engine, the subtle purr of the vehicle syncs with the quiet hum of anticipation. Driving back to your campsite, the warmth of your touch on his thigh acts as a silent yet palpable connection, a prelude to the intimacy awaiting both of you.

With Holly’s engine silenced, you pounce on him, the urgency in the air charging the atmosphere. Your hands glide up his thigh, boldly exploring the terrain beneath the fabric. A daring grip on his clothed dick elicits a soft, impassioned moan, your name escaping his lips like a whispered prayer.

“Impatient much?” 

He chuckles, the sound a harmonious melody to the rhythm of your teasing palm. Your deliberate touch prompts him to throw his head back against the headrest, surrendering to the escalating desire coursing through every fiber of his being.

“Yeah, I’m already so wet. I just want you inside me, Yoon.” 

Your words, laced with a sense of urgency and desire, spill out as you hastily discard both of your pants and underwear, the anticipation building in the air like an electric charge.

“Shit,” he mutters, closing his eyes, savoring a soft breath as you unzip his pants. With his assistance, you deftly pull down both his boxers and pants, leaving them pooled at his knees.

Without hesitation, you straddle him. The confines of the front seat are a bit tight, creating an intimate space that’s not entirely uncomfortable, but charged with anticipation and lust.

His arousal is evident, and you tease him by grinding your core against his throbbing length. The dual response, a twitch and a moan, sends shivers down your spine. The symphony of his pleasure fuels your desire, and you savor every intoxicating sound escaping his lips.

With a confident grip, you guide his dick to your eager entrance, then descend upon him in one seamless motion. The delicious stretch and the raw sensation, liberated from the confines of a condom, draw a heartfelt exclamation. 

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you gasp, relishing the intimate connection that electrifies the air.

His husky voice, laced with desire, breathes out admiration, “Damn, you’re so tight, taking me so well.’” His hands confidently find your hips, anchoring themselves in a rhythm that mirrors the growing intensity between you.

Your movements become a rhythm of urgency, bouncing in his lap with a fervor that sets a relentless pace from the very beginning. The sensation of fullness overwhelms you, and the impending climax rushes towards you like a tidal wave. 

Damn it, the pleasure is so exquisite, so consuming, that you can’t help but surrender to its intoxicating embrace.

Your breath comes in furious pants, a symphony of desire echoing in the air. Fingers entwined in his hair, you tug hard, prompting a hiss of pain from him as you practically impale yourself on his cock. 

“Fuck!” The expletive escapes your lips in a primal scream, a raw expression of the overwhelming pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.

Yoongi’s hold on your hips tightens, his movements synchronized with yours, creating a rhythm that feels like a shared heartbeat between you. With a firm grip, he guides your ascent and descent, an intimate dance of passion and connection.

“Babe,” he pants, his gaze locking onto yours with hooded eyes. “I won’t last much longer.”

You pant and moan his name, “Same here.”

You roll your hips over his, desperately seeking release, while one of your hands trails down to your clit, vigorously rubbing it.

With a few intense strokes on your clit, a surge of pleasure radiates from your core, and you feel a release building up. You let out a breathless moan, calling his name as your vision momentarily blurs. As your body succumbs to the waves of ecstasy, Yoongi takes control, guiding you up and down by your hips, plunging into you with fervor, seamlessly melding with the throes of your orgasm.

Your fingers thread through his hair, gripping and releasing in a rhythm matching the intensity of your movements. With each passionate kiss to his neck, you leave behind a trail of bites that elicit a symphony of pleasurable sounds from him, creating a delicious melody of desire beneath you.

Your name escapes his lips like a fervent prayer, a raw confession of imminent release as he gasps, “Fuck, I’m gonna come, babe,” the words laced with urgency and desire.

In the throes of pleasure, you hiss, “Fill me up, Yoon,” your moan a seductive melody as you sink down on him again, deliberately clenching your walls around him.

“Shit!” he grunts, his release flooding into your welcoming warm pussy.

“You’re absolutely amazing, babe,” he says, his voice dripping with so much love that it envelops you like a warm embrace, making you feel like you could swim in its depths.

“As are you, Yoongi.” You murmur into his ear, wrapping him in a big and warm hug, your breath steadying against the curve of his ear.

You make a conscious effort to savor every fleeting moment of these last few days of your trip, acutely aware that the return to your mundane daily lives is inevitable.

Your period has finally made its appearance, adding a bit of a damper to your spirits and contributing to your already sour mood, but you try not to dwell on it.

You embark on what feels like a magical ‘date,’ where the warmth of a campfire, the sizzling sounds of grilling, and the joy of each other’s company create a perfect, intimate evening in the cocoon of your campsite.

In the familiar rhythm of your camping routine, Yoongi takes the lead at the grill, but tonight, the dance of preparing the meat and chopping vegetables becomes a shared symphony. Surrounded by the serene seclusion of the forest, the campfire’s glow paints a warm ambiance on your faces, casting playful shadows that dance and flicker. 

As you skillfully turn the vegetables over the crackling flames, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. “I’m going to miss this when we get back home.”

“We can always go camping on the weekends,” his voice, tinged with a hint of nostalgia, carries the weight of the inevitable return to reality. Yet, his smile, soft and bittersweet, speaks volumes of the preciousness he finds in the present, a moment cocooned in the dancing flames and the quiet murmur of the forest.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” your smile mirrors the warmth of the flickering flames, an unspoken promise to seize the simple joys of weekends and the solace found under the stars. 

“What are we gonna do when we get back home?” 

As the flames dance, casting a glow on your contemplative expression, you can’t help but sigh, the question lingering in the air like the smoke from the crackling fire. Poking at a charred vegetable in playful defeat, you turn to Yoongi, a mix of curiosity and anticipation in your eyes, as if the answer lies in the shadows painted by the dancing flames.

His gaze locks with yours, a quizzical expression playing on his features. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, and you can sense the curiosity dancing in his eyes, eager to unravel the depths of your thoughts.

As you voice the concerns lingering in your mind, your eyes search his face for a glimpse of understanding. 

“How are we going to make it work, Yoongi? We’re both workaholics.” You sigh, a smile playing on your lips, a mix of worry and anticipation painting your expression as you contemplate the intricate puzzle of your relationship.

His eyes flicker with a thoughtful gleam as he ponders your question, a soft ‘ah’ escaping his lips, carrying with it the weight of consideration and the promise of an honest response.

With a sigh, you add, “And I don’t want our relationship to fail,” as you skillfully pull the vegetables off the fire, their sizzling sounds a backdrop to the sincerity in your voice. The tray in your hands becomes a vessel for both grilled sustenance and the weight of your heartfelt words.

Yoongi expertly turns the sizzling meat, his eyes focused on the grill as he addresses your concerns. 

“First off, I don’t think it’ll fail,” he reassures, the aroma of barbecue blending with the warmth in his words. “We don’t have to see each other every day, although I’d like that very much. You are always welcome in my home or at the garage anytime. And we can do stuff on the weekends,” he adds with a hopeful voice, his smile matching the flickering flames as he places the perfectly grilled meat in a clean tray.

Your eyes light up with enthusiasm. “That sounds nice,” you respond eagerly, reaching for two plates as the prospect of a shared future with Yoongi takes on a tangible, comforting shape.

“I just hope we can make it work.” You express with a hopeful lilt in your voice, the sincerity of your desire for a future with Yoongi shining through.

“I know we can.” He reassures you, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that matches the unwavering belief in your love.

Together, you savor each bite, the conversation flowing effortlessly between dreams of future destinations, the nuances of work, and the tapestry of life itself.

As dawn unfurls its radiant hues, you embark on an early morning hike through the forest, the sun casting golden ribbons through the foliage. The breathtaking spectacle of the sunrise filtering through the trees paints a memory you know will linger, a vivid scene etched in your mind, a treasure to carry with you as you reluctantly prepare to drive home later in the evening.

Hand in hand with Yoongi, you traverse the winding trails, enveloped in a comforting silence that needs no words. The stillness is a serene companion, allowing you to immerse yourselves in the natural symphony of your morning hike—the heady scents of the forest filling your noses, and the ethereal dance of dewy fog casting a mystical spell before you.

Returning from your invigorating hike as the sun climbs the sky, the lure of a sizzling farewell lunch beckons. 

Determined to make the most of your remaining moments in this woodland haven, you opt to ignite the grill one last time, infusing the air with the savory aroma of grilling meat and vegetables before bidding adieu to the serenity of the forest.

The atmosphere takes a bittersweet turn, the air thick with a sense of impending departure. Yoongi tends to the grill, the sizzle of meat a poignant soundtrack to your shared melancholy. 

You attempt to uplift the mood, filling the air with music that usually brings joy, but its lively notes seem to echo the underlying sadness that has settled between you two. As the speakers play on, both of you navigate the delicate dance between creating a facade of happiness and the somber reality of impending separation, etching the moment with shared glances that speak volumes.

“I don’t want to leave.” You force a laugh, the sound devoid of any genuine mirth. It resonates with an emptiness, a profound hollowness that mirrors the depth of your reluctance to part ways with this place.

“I know. Me neither. But we both have work tomorrow.” Yoongi confesses with a sigh, as if attempting to absorb every detail of this moment in nature. The bittersweet truth hangs in the air, a poignant reminder that, despite parting now, the prospect of future camping trips offers a glimmer of solace.

“It sucks.” You declare, your chopsticks attacking the innocent food on your plate as if it were the source of your frustration. A heavy exhale follows, a gust of annoyance and disappointment that echoes your sentiments louder than words ever could.

In the aftermath of your meal, a heavy silence descends as you both quietly consume the last moments of your enchanted getaway. Once the plates are cleared, a symphony of clinks and clatters follows as you meticulously dismantle the campsite and tidy up the van. 

Each fold of the bed, every item stowed away, feels like sealing away a fragment of the magic you’ve experienced.

As you pack with a heavy heart, the memories of this time resonate within you, a bittersweet melody. This retreat has been more than a mere escape; it’s been a rejuvenating balm for your weary soul. 

And unexpectedly, amid the rustling leaves and crackling campfire, you discovered more than tranquility—you got Yoongi, a devoted and caring partner who has etched himself into the canvas of your heart more than before.

As the final pieces are carefully stowed away, Yoongi’s voice breaks the silence, “Let’s head home.” 

Casting a wistful glance back at the forest, you feel a twinge of longing, realizing just how much you’ll miss this tranquil sanctuary. With a mix of reluctance and anticipation, you join Yoongi in Holly.

“I’m ready,” you declare, a determined spark in your eyes. 

“Let’s go.” You add, as if ushering in a new chapter, the engine’s hum signaling both an end and a beginning.

In the whirlwind of days since Yoongi bid you farewell at your apartment, work has morphed into a chaotic dance of demands. Despite the relentless pace, your passion for your job propels you forward, a driving force pushing you through the challenges with unwavering determination.

The ache of missing Yoongi has become a relentless companion, one that tightens its grip especially during the chaotic intervals between your demanding job tasks. In the relentless storm of work, the absence of Yoongi weighs heavy on your heart. 

The saving grace amid the chaos is the lifeline of texts exchanged during your fleeting breaks—a comforting escape when the demands of your job threaten to engulf you completely.

Yoongi has been engulfed in a torrent of tasks himself, with a queue of eager customers awaiting the magic touch of his expertise. The relentless stream of demands has formed an impenetrable barrier, rendering it impossible for you to reunite with him since that bittersweet moment he dropped you off.

Exhausted from a taxing day at work—navigating irate customers and orchestrating the intricate dance of formulating next year’s marketing strategy—you feel the weariness etched into every fiber of your being. 

Yet, fueled by a deep longing to be with Yoongi, you summon the last reserves of your energy and embark on a drive to his garage.

The brief journey from your workplace to Yoongi’s garage unfolds in a mere 15 minutes, the streets whispering tales of anticipation beneath the tires of your car.

You enter through the door, finding Yoongi engaged in conversation with a client. A warm smile graces your lips as you exchange pleasantries. Yoongi, visibly taken aback by your unexpected visit, manages a surprised expression. Making your way to a cozy corner at the back of the garage, you settle into a small lounge area with a plush couch and a quaint table – a designated spot for clients to wait while Yoongi tends to their automotive needs.

The plushness of the couch cradles your body, its soft embrace a welcome comfort. You surrender to its inviting texture, your eyes drifting lazily downward as relaxation takes hold.

In the gentle embrace of slumber, time becomes a blur, and you awaken to a tender caress on your cheek. A radiant gummy smile and affectionate eyes welcome you back to consciousness.

“You didn’t have to make the trip if you’re exhausted, love.” He remarks with a soft chuckle, playfully poking your nose.

“I couldn’t wait to see you.” You admit with a playful pout, rising from the couch. Yoongi chuckles at your expression, then turns back to the car he was tending to while you napped.

You pull your gaze away from Yoongi’s enticing figure, a mischievous spark in your eyes. His black coveralls, stained with a mix of grease and oil, only seem to enhance his rugged appeal. The plain white shirt beneath, now more of an art canvas of his work, adds an unexpected allure. Unable to contain the fire building within, you confess, “You look so damn sexy in those black coveralls.”

His hair is tousled, as though his hands have navigated through it in moments of frustration. A subtle hint of anticipation makes you unconsciously lick your lips, and with deliberate steps, you close the distance between you.

Yoongi’s laughter resonates through the garage as he continues working beneath the hood of a sleek red car. Unconcerned about the specifics of the make or model, you saunter over, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Playfully, you grab hold of the belt loops on his coveralls, tugging him closer, his frame melding into yours with an enticing collision of desire.

A husky grunt escapes him, “I’m filthy, babe,” he warns, yet he willingly surrenders to the allure of your touch, leaning into the intimacy that lingers between you.

“I couldn’t care less.” 

You declare boldly, diving in for a kiss that speaks volumes of your longing. Your hands venture southward, seizing the firm curve of his ass, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.

Abandoning his tools, he seizes your cheeks, intensifying the kiss with a hunger that mirrors a man starved for the taste of your touch.

“I missed you so much.” He breathes as he pulls away, gazing at you with a tender intensity in his eyes.

“Me too. Yoongi, I want you.” You plead, your hands tracing the contours of his body until they rest on his chest, where the steady beat of his heart becomes the rhythm to which your desires dance.

“Fuck. Now?” 

He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled hair, and you bite your lip, nodding with eyes that plead for the immediacy of desire.

“You’re so needy. I love it.” He murmurs before diving back into your mouth, a breathless kiss igniting between you. His hands find your ass, squeezing it possessively, eliciting a moan that vibrates through your bodies. 

He guides you toward a navy car, and as your legs meet the cool hood, he gently eases you down onto it. The surface sends a shiver in your spine, but the contrasting warmth of arousal floods your senses, creating a delicious tension in you.

You meet his gaze, finding his eyes already dilated and hooded, a hungry anticipation shimmering within them, ready to consume you whole.

His hungry gaze traces every curve of your body, and you catch the subtle motion of his tongue moistening his lips, a clear sign of the anticipation building within him.

He skillfully slips off your shoes, smoothly unzips your pants, and lets them cascade down your body, the fabric whispering against your skin before landing in an eager heap on the floor.

You draw your legs up, finding a perch on the sleek hood of the car, a tantalizing contrast of warmth against the cool metal that sends a shiver of anticipation through your body.

You part your legs, a silent invitation beckoning him to immerse himself in the feast that awaits, an unspoken promise lingering in the air.

“Damn. I can already see how wet you are, fuck,” he remarks, his gaze lingering on your wet panties before slowly dragging them down to join your pants on the floor.

His rough and calloused hands explore the warmth of your pussy, gently teasing your clit, eliciting a moan of pleasure from you. “Such a perfect little pussy. All mine,” his voice drips with possessiveness, sending a delicious shiver down your spine as a surge of lust courses through your body.

He gracefully drops to his knees, and in an electrifying moment, his warm, skilled mouth claims your pussy, causing an immediate arch in your back as waves of pleasure surge through your body.

His tongue dances expertly over your sensitive folds, collecting the intoxicating essence of your arousal, each stroke sending tremors of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, Yoongi.” 

Passion courses through you, and you moan uncontrollably, your hands tangling in Yoongi’s hair as you pull, eliciting a deep groan from him, sending shivers of desire through your entire being.

The scenery is nothing short of breathtaking, a sinful feast for the eyes. As he gazes at you, those once deep brown eyes now bordering on black, you can’t help but feel a magnetic pull, an intensity that sets your heart ablaze.

His relentless suction is met with the playful dance of his tongue, teasingly exploring the depths of your pussy. The sensation is so intense that your eyes involuntarily roll to the back of your head, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

“If you continue with that sinful tongue, I won’t be able to hold back much longer,” you pant above him, and you can practically feel the wicked smirk against your sensitive folds.

His nose occasionally brushes against your sensitive clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself going feral with an overwhelming surge of arousal.

He skillfully switches it up, his hot mouth returning to your throbbing clit as two of his fingers expertly delve into your core. Your back arches instinctively, and you can’t help but moan his name, breathlessly exclaiming, “Shit, Yoongi!”

With a swift and deliberate motion, he thrusts his two fingers into you at a relentless pace, unerringly targeting your sweet spot from the very outset.

Sensations intensify; your clit pulsates with an insistent rhythm, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with each passing second. Every breath quickens, and it feels like you’re on the verge of snapping at any given moment.

“Shit, I’m coming!” 

You pant, your body thrashing above him, arching in the throes of ecstasy. A ringing noise echoes in your ears as he continues to lick you through the waves of your orgasm. When he finally pulls away, you find yourself instinctively closing your legs around him, overwhelmed by the lingering sensations of pleasure.

“Fucking hell, Yoongi. You are incredible with your mouth. Come here and give me a kiss.” 

You yank him up by his shirt and draw him in for a passionate kiss. You can taste the remnants of your essence on his lips, but you don’t mind.

He moans into your mouth and abruptly pulls away, fixing you with a gaze filled with both need and unbridled lust.

He tugs at your shirt, demanding, “This. Off.” 

Without hesitation, you comply, raising your arms for him to swiftly pull it over your head and drop it to the floor. Now seated on the hood of the car, clad only in your bra, you’re relieved to find that the metal beneath you has warmed, erasing any lingering chill.

He playfully gropes your breasts, his eyes smoldering with desire. 

“Off with this too,” he commands, a hunger evident in his voice.

You unclasp your bra, letting it fall down the car to the floor. Yoongi hisses as he takes in your fully naked body, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His words pierce through you, igniting a fire within, and you sense your nipples responding to his gaze, hardening with a subtle ache.

“Shit.” An involuntary moan escapes your lips, your body ablaze with sensation and desire.

“Why am I the only one naked again?” You chuckle seductively, fingers teasingly pulling at his coveralls.

You strip away his coveralls, letting them cascade to a pool at his feet. Now free from the constraints of it, he leans in for another intoxicating kiss, the air charged with the promise of desire.

You notice the unmistakable outline of his dick through his boxers, and you teasingly pull away, whispering with a seductive smirk, “Those need to go.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, swiftly dragging the fabric down his legs to join the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You eagerly tug at his shirt, mirroring the way he assisted you earlier, revealing the contours of his body free from the constraints of the grease-stained fabric.

You glide your hands over his sculpted chest, tracing the lines of his toned torso and the softness of his tummy, evoking a light chuckle from him. “Damn, you’re irresistible,” you moan. “Every inch of you, I love.” Your whispered words in his ear accompany a firm grasp on his throbbing cock, teasing it with a few playful strokes.

He seizes your breasts, skillfully rolling a sensitive nipple between his fingers, eliciting a sensual moan of pleasure from your lips.

He gently guides you back, allowing your hair to cascade around your face, creating a frame that accentuates the desire etched in your features.

As he explores the curves of your body with one hand, the other skillfully strokes his dick, aligning himself with the heat of your eager folds.

Your patience wearing thin, you feel his tantalizing cock on your folds, gathering traces of your essence. The plea escapes your lips, “Please, just fuck me already.”

He indulges in a lustful chuckle, his words dripping with desire, “So needy and impatient.” 

He glides into your warmth with a single, seamless thrust, reaching the hilt effortlessly. A moan of pleasure escapes your lips, savoring the exquisite sensation of how perfectly he stretches you.

He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a firm grip on your hips. The car sways and rocks in sync with each powerful thrust, creating a symphony of passion and movement.

The intensity builds, and you gasp, questioning between pants, “The car’s in park, right?” as he unerringly targets your sweet spot, delivering each stroke with precision and pleasure.

He chuckles between breaths, his laughter a sensual melody in the air, “Yeah, it’s not going anywhere.”

Lost in the ecstasy, unsure where to anchor yourself, your hands find solace on his strong arms, gripping tightly as if to merge with the intensity of the moment.

As he relentlessly pounds into you, your intoxicating moans harmonize with the rhythm, your velvet walls clenching around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips. “You’re always so damn tight,” he growls, the raw desire in his voice echoing the fervor of your entwined bodies.

“Hey, Yoongi,” caught off guard, you hear a familiar voice calling Yoongi’s name from behind. Your heart races, realizing it’s too late to shield yourself from the waves of embarrassment flooding over you. Mortification takes hold, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

“I wanted to see if you were done with my car.” Jungkook’s voice startles you, and as you turn, you’re met with wide-eyed disbelief written all over his face. He stands not far away, his eyes seemingly on the verge of popping out of their sockets. With a gaping mouth, he appears utterly speechless.

“Ah–, Jungkook…” caught in a scandalous embrace with Yoongi, the sudden intrusion of Jungkook startles a moan from your lips. Your eyes lock with his, and as Yoongi continues his relentless pace, the intensity of Jungkook’s unwavering gaze heightens the illicit thrill. 

Your body responds, walls clenching around Yoongi, a confusing mixture of embarrassment and arousal coursing through you. 

Why isn’t Jungkook looking away? 

And why, against all logic, does it only turn you on even more? Fuck.

As the symphony of primal sounds, a mixture of Yoongi’s guttural groans and the rhythmic slapping noises, reverberates through the garage, Jungkook finally seems to snap out of his trance.

“Fucking shit, I’m so sorry!” 

Fumbling for apologies, Jungkook hastily covers his eyes and spins around, as if attempting to erase the explicit scene he’s unintentionally stumbled upon. 

“I’ll come back later!” He shouts, almost sprinting out of the garage, leaving an awkward air lingering in his wake.

Yoongi’s powerful thrusts continue, unyielding. He leans down, his intense gaze fixating on your face. His voice, low and venomous, slices through the heated air, commanding, “Never moan another man’s name again,” as if marking his territory with each impassioned word.

In the absence of your response, his hands assertively claim your breasts, skillfully pinching both nipples. An involuntary twist of pain courses through you, a visceral reaction to his unrelenting touch.

“Did you hear me?” 

His voice cuts through the charged air, a stern demand echoing in the garage, his eyes eclipsed by a profound intensity that demands your attention.

“Fuck! Yes! I won’t do it again!” 

In a breathless chorus of affirmation, you surrender, the raw urgency in your voice harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of your panting breaths as the impending release surges through you.

With a final series of primal thrusts, he withdraws from the depths of your pussy, leaving you tingling, breathless and confused.

“Follow me,” his command hangs in the air, and with a firm yet gentle pull, he guides you off the car and onto your unsteady feet.

As he guides you through the garage, both of you naked and exposed, you can’t help but inquire breathlessly, “Should we lock the door?”

He smirks, his voice a low rasp as you arrive at his office. 

“I don’t give a fuck.” He declares, the audacity in his gaze intensifying. “Seems like you like being watched. Just like in the forest, huh? Don’t think I didn’t feel you clench around me as Jungkook watched you get fucked.” 

With purpose, he propels you toward the couch in his office, ruthlessly clearing half of its contents to the floor. Pillows and discarded clothes cascade, creating a scattered pool at your feet.

In a low, demanding tone, he orders, “On all fours. Couch. Now.” 

As you hasten to comply, he positions himself just behind you, prompting a swift bend on his firm couch. The assertive grip on your ass intensifies, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m going to fuck a baby into you.” 

He pants, desire thick in his voice as he strokes his dick, aligning once more with your eager pussy. “Make you nice and round, babe,” he grunts, the raw intensity of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through you as he effortlessly slips back into the depth of your core.

“Fuck!” The sensation is even more constricting than before, and the provocative baby talk is pushing you to the edge. It’s utterly sinful, igniting something primal within you.

He pins you forcefully against the unforgiving couch, driving your head down, each powerful thrust causing it to shift and creak in protest, mirroring the intensity of your entwined passion.

Your senses are on the verge of overload, the relentless pleasure almost too much to bear. Thoughts dissolve into a blissful haze, and all that remains is the exquisite sensation of him sliding perfectly between your thighs.

“I bet you’ll look so incredible carrying our baby,” he pants, his grip tightening on a makeshift ponytail of your hair as he pulls you upwards with a low moan.

“Fuck!” 

You arch your back, relishing the delicious pull on your scalp that sends electrifying shivers down your spine.

You’re completely lost, a symphony of pants and moans escaping your lips. All you can do is surrender to the overwhelming sensation of his incredible thrusts.

His fingers leave a fiery trail as they wander from your hair to one of your breasts, teasingly groping. “Damn, your breasts will get bigger too,” he breathes, his words a sultry promise echoing in the heated air.

“Though I like them just as they are.” He murmurs in rhythm with a punctuated thrust, his voice a seductive melody harmonizing with the passionate dance between you.

At the sound of his words, a surge of desire courses through you, causing your walls to instinctively clench around him. He responds with a sharp intake of breath, a symphony of pleasure echoing in the intimate space between you.

“You like this, don’t you?” 

His voice, low and sultry, fills the room as he pulls on your hair once more, a tantalizing twist that sends a shiver down your spine. A subtle burn lingers, a delicious reminder of the electrifying sensations between you.

His name escapes your lips in a breathless moan of agreement, words failing to convey the intensity of the moment.

As he relinquishes his grip on your hair and breasts, his hands now firmly anchored on your hips, he rasps, “You look forward to being all puffy and swollen, don’t you?” 

His voice carries a seductive promise that sends shivers down your spine.

As the peak of pleasure beckons, the intoxicating blend of his presence within you and his lascivious words has you teetering on the edge. It’s as if the mere fusion of his dick in your pussy and the erotic cadence of his dirty words might propel you into climax without any further touch.

Attempting to vocalize your pleasure, a choked moan escapes your lips, a visceral symphony echoing the tightening coil of your body.

As he relentlessly thrusts, plunging into the depths of your pussy, he smirks and provocatively questions, “Are you coming, babe?”

In a fervor, you attempt to nod, your head resting down on the couch, eyes tightly shut, and hands clenched in the grip of pleasure.

His voice rumbles with desire as he commands, “Come on my dick,” his grip on your hips tightening, forcefully pulling you onto him, the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through his office.

You release the tightly wound coil within you, and a warm flood of your essence envelops his pulsating dick. Colors dance before your eyes, a vivid symphony of sensations, as he, too, begins the pursuit of his own intoxicating climax.

His fervent praise echoes through the room as your moans and pants harmonize with the symphony of pleasure. 

“Shit, you feel so good.” His words, like a sultry melody, intensify the rhythm of ecstasy.

His raspy voice, saturated with pleasure, reverberates in the air as he relentlessly delves deep, bringing you to the brink. “Almost there, babe,” the promise of climax hangs in the room, each thrust a pulsating step toward an imminent release.

His fingers carve ephemeral imprints into the canvas of your hips, a testament to the intensity of his grip. With a primal and forceful thrust, he spills into you, a guttural exclamation escaping his lips, “Fucking shit!”

He persists in his rhythmic thrusts, a seamless dance that continues for what feels like an eternity. The symphony of heavy panting fills the air, a harmonious testament to the intoxicating pleasure enveloping both of you.

As he tenderly withdraws from the embrace of your walls, a bittersweet ache lingers. 

The ebbing warmth of his departure leaves a void, and you sense the telltale trickle of his semen tracing a tantalizing path down your trembling thighs. His appreciative hisses and groans echo the shared intimacy, turning the aftermath into a mosaic of shared passion.

With a resounding smack, he playfully ignites the fire beneath your skin, “You look so hot like this,” he remarks, his words carrying a teasing heat that matches the fiery imprint on your ass.

With a mischievous twirl, you shake your ass provocatively, a sassy smirk dancing on your lips, “Don’t I always look hot?”

He chuckles at your brattiness, delivering another firm slap to your ass, “Always, and I can’t get enough of you.”

You finally turn around, sitting down on the couch, to face him, licking your lips with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Yoongi,” your voice filled with a mix of passion and sincerity that leaves no room for doubt.

He smiles, his touch tracing a delicate path along your cheek, “Fuck, I love you too, babe,” his words carrying the weight of a thousand emotions, a confession that lingers in the air like a sweet promise.

Love saturates the atmosphere, wrapping around you both so tightly that the soft rumble from your stomach escapes like a playful secret, painting a grin on his already handsome face.

Your stomach protests again with a subtle growl, and he chuckles, the sound like a melody blending with the tender kiss he places on your lips. 

“Hungry, babe?” he teases, the warmth of his laughter echoing the affection in the air.

Amidst the afterglow, you share a playful chuckle, the joyous sound filling the room. 

“Yes, I’m starving,” you confess, relishing the delightful nakedness and the shared intimacy of the moment.

As the Friday sun dips below the city skyline, a wave of contentment washes over you. 

Work today was surprisingly pleasant, but what truly fuels your excitement is the anticipation of reuniting with your friends at the bar later. The prospect of laughter and camaraderie lights up your evening horizon.

After a demanding day at work, you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of Yoongi’s home. The soft sanctuary of his sheets cradles you, offering solace and a much-needed respite from the challenges of the day.

As you reluctantly peel yourself away from the embrace of the bed, a tangle of limbs and sheets left in the wake of a time filled with passion, you’re greeted by the stark reality of time ticking away. Your naked form, a canvas marked by the shared intensity, moves with purpose. In the urgency to locate your scattered clothes, a playful smile dances on your lips. 

“We have to get ready now, or else Hoseok will kill us if we’re late!”

“We’ll make it,” his laughter, a melodic assurance, echoes through the room as you engage in a hasty scavenger hunt for the garments that will shield your modesty. 

Triumphantly seizing the clothes, there’s a playful finesse to your actions as you toss his attire in his direction, a comical dance of urgency and amusement. 

With effortless efficiency, you transform from the cozy intimacy of his home to the bustling anticipation of the cityscape. Your steps echo determination, a rhythm set by the pulse of the impending night. Brisk and purposeful, you navigate the urban terrain, a seamless transition from the quiet haven of his house to the lively rhythm of the city streets. 

The search for a bus becomes a quest, an adventure laced with the promise of vibrant encounters awaiting you in the heart of the metropolis.

Entwined in the lively hum of the crowded bus, you and Yoongi carve out a cozy haven amidst the kaleidoscope of humanity. Hand in hand, your fingers dance in silent symphony, finding solace in the familiar warmth of each other’s touch. With your head nestled on his shoulders, you embark on the journey to the bar to meet up with your friends.

As you step into the lively ambiance of the bar, the infectious melody of your friends’ laughter orchestrates a beacon, guiding you unerringly to their gathering. Their exuberant joy reverberates in the air, making them a vibrant constellation impossible to overlook amidst the bustling backdrop of the bar’s chatter and clinking glasses.

“Hi,” you join the lively cluster of your friends with a warm greeting, sliding seamlessly into the open space next to Jungkook, who graciously makes room for both you and Yoongi. 

A subtle, rosy hue paints Jungkook’s cheeks a bright red, mirroring the flush that graces your own face as you and he share a shy glance, deliberately sidestepping prolonged eye contact in the midst of the gathering.

“You’re late,” Hoseok’s voice carries a mockingly stern tone as he playfully rolls his eyes at your belated entrance, his knowing gaze signaling that he’s well aware of the delightful reason behind your tardiness.

“Hey,” a collective greeting resonates from the group, their eyes discreetly flickering between you and Yoongi, deliberately sidestepping Hoseok’s playful comment.

Your warm smile encompasses the group as you inquire, “How have you all been?” 

Your eyes sweep across each face, a genuine affection evident, and you add, “I’ve missed you.”

Namjoon passes a pair of beers your way, and with a subtle gesture, you gracefully direct yours to Yoongi, ensuring he has two. Opting for a bottle of water, your choice doesn’t escape Namjoon’s notice, though he maintains a thoughtful silence.

Jungkook, still blushing beside you, stammers out, “It’s going well. I’ve landed more modeling gigs, and some are even international!” He chirps with infectious happiness, sharing his success with the group.

“Wow, that’s incredible, Kook,” you pat him on the shoulders, your touch conveying genuine pride and admiration. Feeling him tense beneath your hand, you can’t help but marvel at how he’s fearlessly pursued his dreams.

“The trip was amazing; I actually got contacted because of the pictures I uploaded to my Instagram,” he boasts with pride, and the table erupts in cheers. Everyone is genuinely happy for him, celebrating his success. 

You can’t help but notice his still lingering blush and how he subtly avoids making eye contact with you.

You shift your gaze to Hoseok, who’s casually sipping his beer. Sensing your lingering attention, he speaks, “Not much has changed since our last chat,” a warm smile playing on his lips.

You chuckle and take a sip of your water, scooting closer to Yoongi at your side, the warmth between you growing with every inch.

Seokjin’s infectious chuckles draw you in, the sound a delightful melody weaving through the air. “When I came home, my girlfriend had orchestrated a full-scale rearrangement of our entire apartment,” he shares, laughter dancing in his eyes. 

“I thought the nesting phase happened later in the pregnancy, but now I don’t know where my stuff is, and neither does she.” The room erupts in laughter, and you find yourself clutching your stomach, the ache from amusement almost as sweet as the camaraderie in the moment.

“That sucks man,” Taehyung remarks, his laughter lingering in the air.

“What about you Tae?” Namjoon asks him with a smile.

“Ah, life’s the same old rollercoaster, but that vacation? Absolutely necessary.” He shares, his smile a vibrant punctuation to the story in his eyes.

“Spill the tea, Joonie. What’s been brewing in your world since we got back?” Yoongi takes a leisurely sip of his beer, a conspiratorial glint in his eye as he nudges Namjoon, inviting a glimpse into the tapestry of his recent adventures.

“I took that girl from the dating app out on a date,” he confesses, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Turns out, she’s not just nice; we’re practically living parallel lives. It’s uncanny how much we have in common.”

“That’s wonderful, Joonie!” you beam like a lovesick fool. “I’m genuinely thrilled for you. Wishing you all the best, and I hope things work out perfectly for you two.”

Wrapped in Yoongi’s comforting embrace, you surrender to the warmth, a lovesick fool drowning in the bliss of his arms.

You catch the heavy sigh escaping Jimin’s lips as he nurses his beer, and with a knowing look, he confesses, “The vacation was incredible, but reality hits hard. Work hasn’t changed a bit, and I’m already feeling drained,” he laments, taking another sip of his beer.

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, taking a hearty gulp of his beer, “Why the hell is your face as red as a tomato, Kook? What’s wrong?”

Everyone’s gaze converges on the youngest, and the deepening shade of his blush is impossible to ignore. You sense the topic at hand, your cheeks mirroring the rosy hue. Yoongi, nonchalant, chuckles beside you, adding to the collective curiosity in the room.

“Why the laughter, Yoongi?” Namjoon quirks an eyebrow inquisitively. 

As he scans the expressions on both you and Jungkook’s faces, it becomes evident how you both go out of your way to avoid each other’s eyes.

“Something definitely went down between you two,” Hoseok chimes in, his voice filled with playful curiosity.

Jimin suddenly becomes intensely interested, leaning over the table to scrutinize both you and Jungkook. “Spill the details,” he demands with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Nothing happened!” Jungkook blurts out, raising his arms in a hasty defense, desperately trying to shield his crimson face. You, on the other hand, find solace in staring at the floor, unable to meet the curious gazes probing at your secret.

The guys persistently badger Jungkook for more information, but he clams up, sealing his lips tighter than a vault. Frustrated, their attention shifts to Yoongi once again.

Yoongi, nonchalant, raises his beer to his lips for another sip before casually revealing, “He saw us fuck.”

Jungkook lets out a dramatic groan, his hands shielding his eyes as if the vivid image of you and Yoongi in the throes of sex is still burned into his mind. The other guys, practically choking on their beers, sport eyes as wide as teacups, thoroughly amused by the revelation.

“What?” Taehyung practically yells, laughter bubbling up so much that his eyes glisten with tears. He turns to Jungkook with an incredulous expression, as if seeking confirmation for the unbelievable revelation.

“Why the hell were you watching them?” He interrogates Jungkook, genuine curiosity mirrored in the eyes of the entire group.

Jungkook finally glances at the group, his voice trailing off hesitantly, “I came to pick up my car at Yoongi hyung’s garage…” His eyes wander across the faces of the group, finally locking onto yours.

“And they were... at it,” his eyes reflect a blend of hurt and discomfort, “on the hood of my damn car,” he states with a stern and definitive tone.

A collective gasp fills the room, and all eyes turn towards you. 

Your gaze immediately drops to the floor. 

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks – it was Jungkook’s car. 

The hurt in his eyes now makes sense; he adores that car. The frustration builds as you grasp that Yoongi was well aware, yet said nothing! There will definitely be a conversation about this later, dammit.

“Gross!” Taehyung scowls and audibly scoffs, taking an exaggerated sip of his beer to mask the disbelief etched on his face.

Seokjin shakes his head in amused disbelief, his words carrying a playful scolding. “Aish, you’re not teenagers anymore! You’re in your thirties for God’s sake.” Laughter erupts from Teahyung, Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok, echoing the sentiment.

Namjoon bursts into earnest laughter, his words carrying a teasing tone. “Forgot to lock the door? Rookie mistake.”

Jimin raises his beer high in the air, a mischievous glint in his eye. “A toast!” you all turn towards him, curious about the unexpected celebration.

“To ___!” Jimin bellows, breaking the silence, and with some hesitation, the rest of the group chimes in, including Yoongi. You can only watch them with a mix of surprise and amusement.

“She finally got that office fuck!” Jimin exclaims with contagious joy, and the rest of the group erupts in laughter so uproarious that it turns heads throughout the entire bar.

Author’s note (2): OMG! This is the end of Friendcation 😭 What a wild ride it has been to write it. But so, so good. What first started as an idea because my sister and brother-in-law were going on a roadtrip in their van around Europe, birthed this lovely story 😭

I truly want to say a big enormous thank you, to you. Yes, you! Thank you so much for all the time you have spent reading this series – I really hoped you liked it. I appreciate every single one of you, you guys are amazing 💜

If you liked it, please consider commenting (even an emoji is fine!), or reblogging or getting in touch with me in an ask – I don’t bite, I’m very nice I promise. It’s also completely fine if you don’t want to do any of those things too, no pressure!

Please stay happy and healthy 💜

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[bivwifeybunny]

I here by request Foolish fluff that can allude to smut!

Maybe reader has a headache and Foolish ends stream early to comfort her and she starts feeling better and then things lead into the bedroom..

(Also may I have permission to write the smut part? Like you put out the fluff and then I give the part 2 that’s smut 👀)

My Special Girl

Pairing(s): Foolish x reader

Warning(s): Cursing, alluded smut (actual smut in the part 2 hehehe 🤭), mostly just fluff tho

A/N: RAHHH I'm finally posting a fic after.... uhhh idk but a LONG time. haha... yeah sorry about that. but HEY it's a foolish fic and that's something new. shrimpy here convinced me to start writing for him (it wasn't hard since i cant say no to shrimpy lmao) but yeah, this is a little collab I did with her. so as said in the ask, she wrote part 2 with the actual smut. I loved writing this and working with her honestly. she helped with a couple questions I had and was really patient with me (i took 11 days to finish this lol rip) so would def do again. also my first collab? im so excited for y'all to read this. anyways this is getting long, enjoy and the link for part two is at the end.

You already felt it coming on. The tension building behind your eyes and the strain forming at your temples. But you’d be cruel to deny him when he looked at you with that cute pout. So you walked off, popped an ibuprofen and came back, sitting next to him as you watched him play some Minecraft.

However, the ibuprofen was definitely not enough. Thanks to his bright ass lights, the less than cozy screaming and yelling, and the eye strain from staring at the monitors, your headache began to worsen.

“I thought Minecraft was supposed to be a relaxing game.” You groaned, eyes squinted as you struggled to keep up with the pvp he was doing.

“Maybe it could be, if Richarlyson wasn’t being such a little bITCH!” Foolish screamed, resulting in another wince from you. His fingers darted around, clicking away as he chased after the little pixelated egg.

And then came the barking.

The back and forth, screaming, barking, with the added touch of his way too bright lights and the blue light from the monitors made you groan again. You leaned your head down, your hand covering your eyes, trying to find some relief. He was so excited to show you his progress on the titan, and you promised you’d at least stay long enough to see it, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could take this.

Luckily though, most of the screaming and barking stopped when Richas made a strategic retreat and teleported away. So you were able to look back at the monitor when he called your name.

“Okay, finally. Alright, alright, look.” Foolish grinned as he warped over to his titan build and began to glide over to it. “Now, I’m obviously not completely done but I’m so close, and I only really have- No, no, nO, NO!” He whined as a creeper dropped down next to him and exploded, ruining a part of the hand.

And unfortunately for you, that note struck the wrong cord and the pounding in your head grew past your limit. “Foolish, I’m gonna go lay down, okay?” You whispered, not only because of the throbbing in your head but also so his chat wouldn’t hear. You hurried off screen, heading back into his bedroom and crawling into bed after ensuring all the lights were off. You tossed the blankets over your head and buried your face into the cool pillow, hoping it’d ease the pain.

Meanwhile, as soon as you left, the doozers were all spamming things like “what happened to ___?”, “i dont think they were feeling well”, “they had their head down earlier”, “are they okay?” and so on.

Foolish, however, didn’t even glance at chat as he hurried off of Minecraft. “I think I’m gonna call it a day, guys. Sorry this was a shorter stream than usual.” He apologized for his 3 hour stream before quickly ending.

As soon as he was sure he ended, he rushed over to his room. He frowned at the dark room and the faint outline of your body curled up under the blankets. “Baby?” He called out quietly, climbing onto the bed next to you. He leaned over, propped up on his elbow and gently drew back the blankets. “What’s wrong?”

“Head hurts.” You muttered, eyes still shut tightly, jaw clenched.

“Aw, I’m sorry, honey.” He whispered softly, turning you to face him before rubbing his thumbs over your eyebrows, a silent instruction to relax from your tense position. “Should’ve told me. I wouldn’t have asked you to come on stream if I’d known you weren’t feeling good. Did you take anything to help it?”

“Just ibuprofen but’s not working.” You answered, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh, making him smile.

“Well, here. Why don't we try a bit of this?” Foolish mumbled, pulling you on top of him. “Where does it hurt?” He asked, to which you muttered, “My temples ‘nd behind my eyes,” snuggling into his warmth. He nodded, moving his hands to your head and beginning to massage your temples gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You sighed in relief, relaxing your stiff position even more as he rubbed away all the tension, humming in a soothing, soft tone. You stayed like that for a while, letting Foolish work his magic while you cuddled him close.

After a little while he kissed your head again and moved his hands away, hugging you instead. “Feel any better?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He smiled softly. “And I hope you know I’m going to absolutely clowned on by chat tomorrow and it’s all your fault.” He teased with a playful smirk.

“I say it’s worth it. They already get to spend way too much time with you as is. It’s about time I stole you away from them for a little while.” You laughed, lifting your head to look up at him before smirking. “But if you really want me to make it up to you, I have an idea in mind I’m sure you’d like.”

“Oh ho ho ho.” Foolish giggled excitedly, meeting you halfway when you leaned up to kiss him. “Don’t mind if I do…” He smirked into the kiss, flipping you over. “But since my baby was hurting, why don’t you let me take care of you?”

Part 2 :D by @mentallyillcrustacean

Taglist: @jordyncandy @foxilia @lacunaanonymoused @remiwastaken

Foolish taglist: none yet :)

#wifey: foolish <3 #foolish x reader #foolish x reader fluff #wifey's moots <3 #shrimpy <3

[annathesillyfriend]

Hey there! I hope summer is treating you well 🌞I am currently crying over the fact that I didnt get to see Lizzo at a festival 30 km away from me last week and that I won't see Harry tomorrow in Warsaw, so I decided to distract myself with making this list 😅 I hope that next time I'll be able to tell you that I menaged to get Taylor tickets, so please keep your fingers crossed for me 🥰

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

Also, please, mind the writers’ warnings!

🌊JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN🌊

it's what you make it and and honey, i'll make it all okay by @seresinhangmanjake

↳ two-shot, part of oh, baby universe which is an amazing dad!jake series and you should totally give it a try

you're safe now and bite me by @seresinsweetie

↳ two-shot, 18+, enemies to friends to lovers, i want a weighted blanket for my birthday this year and by weighted blanket i mean jake seresin on top of me, please and thank you

crossing all the lines by @//seresinsweetie

↳ one-shot, 18+, not it's time for a rooster x hangman x reader threesome and it's as hot as it sounds 🥵

hungman by @ddejavvu

↳ one-shot, 18+, roommate!camboy!jake, do i have to say more? whenever i see Daisy's url on my dash, i drop everything i'm doing and go read, such a talented writer!

a love you don't find everyday by @//beccaanne814

↳ series, this story has kept me on my toes and then surprised me in the best way possible, amazing fic 💕

head on your chest, heart in your hands by @jupitercomet

↳ one-shot, soft!jake has a special place in my heart

same 'ol situation by @topguncortez

↳ one-shot, 18+, roommate!jake and it's so good!!

🌊BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW🌊

how could i forget by @roosterforme

↳ one-shot, I put this particular fic here because it was the first one I read in June but I recommend going through Emily's whole masterlist. I could go on and on about how talented she is 👏I start every single one of my days by reading one of her works. Like literally every day. Thank you for making my morning more bearable 💕

give me your hand and here is my heart by @sometimesanalice

↳ two-shot, 18+, this is a part of a bigger universe that I love with my whole being. please, do yourself a favour and go read it all!

hey, salior by @//sometimesanalice

↳ one-shot, 18+, i am YELLING

warm blood by @notroosterbradshaw

↳ one-shot, another phenomenal fic from another phenomenal author 👏👏 keep slaying!

home and viva la vegas by @honeysimagines

↳ two-shot, i read this like four times in the last month, my love for those fics is out of control

i'll guide you by @bradshawsbitch

↳ one-shot, 18+, i get dizzy and warm all over just by thinkign about this fic 👀

you left your name on my lips by @blurredcolour

↳ one-shot, beautiful fic!

love and loss by @bradshawsbaby

↳ one-shot, what a stunning piece. we all need this kind of support in our lives

if i knew it all then, would i do it again? by @ofstoriesandstardust

↳ one-shot, part of the same mistakes-verse which is a god tier series. this one left me speechless

i was supposed to sweat you out by @theharddeck

↳ one-shot, 18+, friends with benefits, simply delicious 👏👏

i think i love you by @thewulf

↳ one-shot, best friends to lovers, i loved this so very much

where do we go? by @thatlovinfeelin

↳ series, 18+, amazing fic, beautiful story!

salt air, and the rust on your door by @daniellarussoo

↳ one-shot, just a sweet little husband!bradly fic 😌

to love and be loved by @callsigncherub

↳ one-shot, i seriously debated jumping into the sea after reading this one

all consuming by @inklore

↳ one-shot, 18+, Lauren's back at it again with a bloody banger

🌊JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO🌊

a little bit of fun and it's not rotten work (not if it's you) by @sushiwriterhere

↳ two-shot, 18+, javy x reader x jake fics, this is just great, i love everything about those stories

the double negative effect by @beyondthesefourwalls

↳ one-shot, there are not enough javy fics out there so i cherish every single one i find, especially ones as good as this one!

training accident by @//foreverrandomwritings

↳ one-shot, another great javy story!

🌊ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD🌊

supernova by @laracrofted

↳ one-shot, 18+, bob x reader x pheonix threesome, a dream come true 😫

the worst date by @lovingperfectionsblog

↳ one-shot, love this one 💕

the wingman by @//roosterforme

↳ one-shot, 18+, okay we all aready know how much i adore Emily's work but i just had to put this one here cause bob needs all the love he can get!!

shut up and dance with me by @beccaanne814

↳ one-shot, man, the things i'd so for him to dance with me

sick day by @writingdumpster

↳ one-shot, bob's a little bit stuborn here but we're gonna let it slip just this once

girl in a coffee shop by @ohgodnotagainn

↳ one-shot, coffee shop!au, bob as a barista!!!! yes yes yes that all i need in life

🌊MICKEY ' FANBOY' GARCIA🌊

opposites attract by @foreverrandomwritings

↳ one-shot, husband!mickey and he's just so 🥺🥺

🌊STEVE HARRINGTON🌊

all the time by @bookshelf-dust

↳ one-shot, friends to lovers and fake dating -> ✨cheff's kiss✨

cardigan by @supernovafics

↳ one-shot, professor!steve x professor!reader, angst with happy ending, great work 👏

car kisses by @iridescentprose

↳ one-shot, there is just something so kissable about steve driving a car. i would, too, risk my life to pour some love on that man

this fic by @spicysix

↳ one-shot, being stuck in an elevator may not be an ideal situation but it's whole other thing when steve harrington is there with you

steve-o by @bettysupremacy

↳ one-shot, i just adore this steve

midnight love by @loveshotzz

↳ one-shot, 18+, fuck boy!steve but we fall for him anyway

this fic by @lovebugism

↳ one-shot, 18+, SO DAMN BLOODY GOOD i can't even

this fic by @forever-rogue

↳ one-shot, broke my heart and put it right back together

bad for ussiness by @upsidedownwithsteve

↳ series, 18+, enemies to lovers is the superior trope and this fic is the perfect example, my favourite steve fic honestly

a good dream by @solarluvs

↳ one-shot, 18+, the fact that this will never happen to me in real life is just criminal

keep trying by @lilacletter

↳ one-shot, 18+, an obligatory baby making fic™, they just hit different

cool about it by @mysticmunson

↳ one-shot, if you feel like getting your heart broken, that's a fic for you :')

this love by @forevermoreharrington

↳ one-shot, 18+, a masterpiece really

🌊EDDIE MUNSON🌊

brain like a sieve by @munsster

↳ one-shot, AHHHHHHHHHH is all i have to say on this 😅

sunscreen and chlorine and blue raspberry syrup by @eiightysixbaby

↳ two-shot, 18+, lifeguard!eddie, perfect summer read, just like ice cream on a hot day 🙌

something like this by @taintedcigs

↳ one-shot, a good old truth or dare fic, just what we all love

love me tender by @oneforthemunny

↳ one-shot, 18+, janitor!eddie x teacher!reader, what a stunning piece of work that is 🥺

hot rod by @shamevillain

↳ one-shot, 18+, you will need a shower after reading this 🥵

🌊RHETT ABBOTT🌊

right where i want you by @//sushiwriterhere

↳ one-shot, 18+, sort of enemies to lovers, i am so normal about this 🙂

hell on heels (part 2) by @strawhbrrries

↳ two-shot, 18+, that bloody cowboy will send us all straight to hell

wildflower, widefire by @sebsxphia

↳ series, 18+, the perfect balance between sweet and sexy 😌😌

the ferris wheel by @lewmagoo

↳ one-shot, i just wanna share funnel cake with rhett abbott, is that too much to ask???

invisible string by @wkndwlff

↳ one-shot, 18+, BEAUTIFUL 😭😭

#anna's fic recs #fic recs #june 2023 fic recs #top gun fic recs #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reaer #stranger things fic recs #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader

[bluegiragi]

Oh bestie you can’t just say “they’re all switches (with personal preferences)” and then not drop the details 👀👀 also does this mean you’d ever draw bottom!Ghost and top!Soap??

(nsfw warning: explicit talk about sex)

I think that Ghost, Soap and Konig are pretty flexible in the roles they play within their polycule, but certain traits remain consistent throughout. Also please note that this is all headcanon, and just how I see these three.

Ghost is in a lot of ways just a dominant person. By nature of his past, he enjoys having control, and exerting that control. Which isn't to say he doesn't also enjoy surprises (he's learnt to roll with the punches) but it does mean that I see him as a very focused top and a very domineering bottom. He's definitely more comfortable being the top in almost all situations, but he loves Johnny too much to deny him anything, and I think he'd dangle the prize of getting ridden over Konig like bait. He definitely gets off to the idea of using people for his own pleasure (especially when it comes to Konig, who is so needy and eager to please, without the coy brattiness of Soap). As a top, he really gets off to seeing how much Soap or Konig want him, and takes a lot of pleasure in pushing them to their limits (with consent of course).

Soap is a brat through and through when it comes to Ghost, but Konig brings out the bully in him a little. He likes to tease and flirt and push and pull - the game of it is fun to him and seeing Konig be so plaintively desperate for him in ways that Ghost just isn't does it for him. But Ghost is truly his kryptonite. I love reading fics by whisperwarm and prettyunhinged because they write their dynamic pretty much exactly how I imagine it - just constantly starving for each other, knowing they push each other's buttons that nobody else can. In the same line, captaindominoes is stellar at portraying how they're the only one for each other. Soap is loud as a bottom and a top (he sort of never knows how to shut up) and i think he's open and affectionate as both. And he's got a MASSIVE manhandling kink. He also definitely gets a lot of pleasure from seeing how much he's wanted (he probably tests this out most on Konig though, Ghost can only take so much before his self control runs thin.)

Konig is such a submissive and I can't wait to get to the actual nsfw part of this comic miniseries so I can start showing that, but I also think his feral' mode is interesting. I think it only comes out in flashes of confidence so things like crazed quick fucks post-mission while he's coming down from an adrenaline rush would be on the table. Fighting Ghost also gets him going (to his own partial mortification). Something about him just gets under his skin, in a way that irritates, intimidates and turns him on in no specific order. Part of it is probably the fact that he views Ghost as a superior in almost all senses - he definitely has a massive praise/degradation kink (i think he gets off to both honestly). And on average, Soap is sweeter on him while Ghost never really lets him forget who's top dog (which is fine with him). Konig and Ghost definitely butt heads sometimes and I won't lie, a sly hatefuck after a botched assignment isn't exactly out of the question, but I think at the end of the day Konig craves his approval, in one way or another. As for Soap, in contrast to Ghost, Soap is Konig's VERY assertive boy next door, but what if the boy next door also had a box of handcuffs (and other things) hiding under the bed. They're honestly just very sweet together - they're both very attentive and vocal and honestly I think Ghost would get off to just watching them.

I don't know if this answered your question but I just wrote like way too much on these three (and yes I'd definitely consider drawing top!soap and bottom!ghost at some point)

#in summary #ghost likes to make people cry for him #soap loves the attention #and konig just wants to be good #askbox

[ghostlychief]

Dude I just loved your Ghost fic with his scary wife, it was so ✨chefs kiss✨

Could you please write a fic about how the MW2 men would react to reader letting loose in the club after a mission? Just the concept of a cold, badass woman who can handle herself in the field and is a total man-eater that has the moves™️ + the men's reactions (mayhaps with a crumb of nsfw👀) is JUST DOBDISHDONDOSHDINSKWE I BEG PLEASE

HELLO!! thank you sm for your request <3 I took some liberties but i really hope you enjoy what i threw together for you!! (and there is a crumb of nsfw, so i hope you enjoy the tiniest of crumb i gave you lmao) ALSO, thank you sm for saying you really like my other Ghost fic, it means so much to hear that <33333 thank you sm for reading!

ENJOY, SWEETIE

--

Dancing Queen

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol drinking; foreplay? slight fingering; nothing too smutty but MINORS DNI; seriously, if you're a minor pls do not read.

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i'll edit tomorrow, but sorry for any typos!

---

You were pretty revered on task force 141. You were the youngest on the team of burly men but you were one of the most skilled members on the force. And, you took yourself very seriously, almost too seriously some would say.

But who could blame you? You were a woman in a male dominated field. You had to be serious, had to be cold. Especially in the armed forces. This line of work was just as bad if not worse than the financial sector, you know, with all the finance bros. Actually, it was worse, but just by a hair.

So, due to your highly stressful and sometimes misogynistic job, you liked to let loose, have fun on the weekends. It was really the only time where you could fully relax and let yourself go. Alcohol helped of course. You loved going to clubs, bars, restaurants, hell anywhere really. As long as it helped you forget the week you had, helped you soothe the aches and pains that came with the job.

Surprisingly you found that your internal team, therefore task 141, weren’t such pricks after all. You thought they would be all misogynistic pigs, and treat you worse than their male colleagues. No, you were proven wrong. Something that doesn’t happen often. You were smart after all.

Sooner than later, you found yourself growing fonder of your team, and you considered them your closest friends. You know, big shock. You weren’t expecting your closest friends to be your work buddies as well.

You also sprouted a crush for one of your team members. Who could blame you? He was tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious. Always sporting that black balaclava, only leaving his eyes privy to your vision. You have only seen him without his signature mask a few times, most of them being when he was drunk, and out with the team.  

But who doesn’t like intrigue?

Fast forward to this Friday. You found that Friday is your favorite day to go out. You realized that you still have all of Saturday to relax, sleep, and recover and then it’s Sunday. The dreadful day in which work starts the next.

So here you were, getting ready to do out tonight with 141. You typically styled your hair your favorite way, did a full glam of make-up, and pre-gamed to make sure you would be a solid drunk by the time you had at least one drink at the bar. This was your time to shine, to have fun for once. You weren’t going to pass it up. Hence, your lovely make-up and outfits that made any jaw drop to the floor.

By the time you were finished getting ready, you felt a slight buzz in your system, and you felt good, felt pretty. You were ready for a night out. Specifically, you were ready for a night out with Ghost.

You found it much, much easier to talk to the intimidating guy when you were slightly buzzed, or better yet, drunk. Was it healthy? Probably not. But who’s perfect, right?

Even though you were a force to be reckon with yourself, the man still intimated you. Maybe it was because of the feelings that started developing in the pits of your stomach. You couldn’t help it when your heart clenched every time you saw him, or every time his blue eyes met your own.

It was getting bad, and you were worried it was going to start to effect your performance at work, which was unacceptable.

So, what do you do to deal with all these feelings? You drink of course!

Hey, you’re still in your twenties, it’s a pass.

You get a text from Soap in the GM that your guys’ uber is at your place. It was decided that you would ride with Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.

You saw the uber in front of your building, so you made your way to the back seat. You figured that Ghost would be in the front, so you open the door and tease, “Gaz, you need to take the middle seat because you’re the shortest out of all of us.”

However, you weren’t met with Gaz’s chocolate eyes when you swung open the door. No, you were met with Ghost’s large frame, and confused expression as you mistakenly talk to him instead of Gaz.

“You want me to sit in the middle?” Ghost points a finger at himself.

You hear Gaz snicker from the front seat. I’ll get him later.

You disguise your embarrassment with a cough, “Oh! No, no, no. I mean, we can’t have the tallest teammate sit in the middle now can we?” You flash Ghost what you’re hoping is your best smile. Dammit why did I drink so much getting ready?

Ghost just grunts in confirmation and gets out of the vehicle.

You clamber your way in only to find Soap with a  shit-eating grin, sitting in the back as well.

“Hello, Soap.” Your tone is clipped, which makes his grin widen even more.

Ghost gets in finally, but once he’s finally settled, you find yourself literally squished between Soap and Ghost.

“Can either of you move over or something? I’m being squeezed to death.”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it, y/n.”

You really, hope Ghost didn’t just hear what Soap said, but it’s unlikely. You hit him in the shoulder, “First rounds on you, asshole.”

Soap raises his hands in a truce. “Alright, alright. Don’t get mad at me.”

You were only annoyed because Soap was right. You did like being squished up against Ghost. How embarrassing. Stupid feelings. Who even has time for feelings anymore?

You all finally make it to the club, and you make a beeline for the bar. As promised, Soap orders you, as well as Ghost and Gaz a round of drinks. You all cheer’s, then you down your shot. At this point, you’re definitely drunk.

The guys get another drink as you observe the dance floor. They take two more shots, and you take one more.

After your last shot, you let them know that you’re going to go dance. They all toast you, and then you’re off to the dance floor.

You start moving to the beat, letting the music take over your body, letting it carry you away from all your problems.

It’s only a few minutes in when you notice that they’re playing your favorite song. You rush back over to the guys, and excitedly shout, “They’re playing my favorite song! Do any of you want to dance with me?”

Before anyone could really respond, Soap is clapping Ghost on the shoulder, and pushing him towards you, “Ghost would love to.”

If you weren’t so drunk, you would have noticed Ghost send a glare to his friend. But not out of despite, more out of nervousness.

You clap your hands, so excited that someone is joining you, much different than your usually demeanor at work. Then you grasp Ghost’s hand in yours and lead him to the floor, leaving a grinning Soap and Gaz.

Gaz just sighs before saying, “Why do you always have to butt in?”

Soap just shrugs with a knowing smile on his face, “Because, they’d be good for each other, and both of them need a little nudge from someone to get the ball rolling.”

Once you and Ghost make it to the dance floor, you turn around to face him. You have the biggest smile he’s ever seen on your pretty face, and he can’t help but smile back.

You start moving to the music as before, but this time, Ghost wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you in close to him. So close, that your chests are touching. He’s definitely buzzed, borderline drunk.

He leans his head down so his lips are brushing against your ear, “I didn’t know you were quite the dancer.”

His breath tickles, and you let out a laugh, tightening your arms that have found their way around his neck.

“Don’t you know? I’m the dancing queen.” You let out a laugh, and pull him closer.

He laughs as well and you both continue swaying to the beat, that is, until a more up-tempo song starts to play. Before you know it, Ghost has spun you around, so now your back is facing his front.

His large hands make their way to your waist, gripping tightly. But not too tightly in which it hurts. It’s more so a comforting hold. You feel secure, like you would never trip and fall in his embrace.

You lean your head back so it’s resting on Ghost’s chest, and you feel him dip his head to meet yours. The height difference is making you dizzy, making you want more of him.

You feel him kiss down your neck, his lips searing your skin as they map you out. He makes his way back up and nips at your earlobe, which has you letting out a small yelp. But you lean further into him, signaling him to continue on.

Your hands come up to rest on top of his, and you squeeze them. You’ve never felt this exhilarated, and Ghost’s touches leave sparks in their wake, igniting you.

As he continues to kiss down your neck, you take one of your hands that’s grasping his, and start to lead it to the top of your skirt. He seems to get the idea, and continues his hand down until it’s grazing your upper thigh, lifting your skirt ever the slightest.

He subtly brings his fingers under your skirt to graze your underwear. The dance floor is so packed, that no one will notice.

The feeling of his fingers pressing on your bud has your head spinning and you let out a soft whine. It’s just faint enough that only Ghost can hear it. His hand goes further and pushes your underwear to the side. He teases your entrance without entering a finger into you and he brings his thumb up to press down on your clit. Which makes you let out another low pitch whine.

Your hand trails down to find his, as if to ground yourself. From what, you don’t even know. You just need to feel him more. More so than you already are.

All too soon, he removes his hand from your and brings it back up to cup your waist, then he spins you around so you’re facing him. What a fucking tease.

You crane your neck to glance up at him and you don’t know who moved in first. But what you do know is that you’re kissing Ghost. His lips lock with yours and it feels like it was always meant to be.

You trail your hands up so they play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Twirling the hair around the tips of your fingertips. The kiss you share feels infinite, like it was mapping out the very constellations around you.

You never wanted it to end.

All too soon he pulls away, and brings his hands up to cup your face. His forehead is pressed up against yours, and he holds you so gently.

“I just had to do that, at least once.” He sounds breathless, and you fight the urge to pull him down to you again, at his confession.

“Why just once?” You’re just as breathless, if not more as you ask him this.

You don’t want this to end here, you can’t let it end here. You like him too much, too much that your heart hurts at the thought of letting him go.

Ghost peels himself from you, but his hands are still ever so gently cupping your sweet face. His thumbs rub under your eyes, on the apple of your cheeks, as he looks fondly down at you. He’s looking at you as if you created all the planets in the solar system, and hung up the stars as well.

“Because I know you deserve better.”

His admission tugs at your heartstrings, “Bullshit. You don’t get to tell me what’s good for me and what isn’t.”

It was true. You had to decide for yourself.

“Is that so?” A smirk forms on his lips.

You’re glad the air has turned back into something light, something teasing. That’s something you could deal with. Not the heavy shit that was threatening you before.

You bring your hands once again to his and grasp them, “Yes, it is, so you better get used to it.”

Ghost just lets out a laugh and then swiftly pulls you into a bone crushing hug. He rests his head on top of yours. You swear you feel a faint pressure atop your head, almost like a kiss laid upon your hair.

His words get muffled into your hair, but you make them out just the same. “Why don’t we finish what we started, but in a more private place, hm?”

You tighten your hold on him, words stifled into his chest as your answer, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

--

Ghost Masterlist

hope you enjoyed! <3

#ghost request #mw2 ghost request #cod ghost request #cod ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic #ghost fanfic #mw2 ghost fanfic #cod ghost fanfic #simon riley request #simon ghot riley request #mw2 ghost fic #cod ghost fic #simon riley fic #simon ghost riley fic #ghost imagine #mw2 ghost imagine #cod ghost imagine #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost x you #cod ghost x you #mw2 ghost x you #Simon ghost Riley smut #mw2 ghost smut #cos ghost smut

[anawrites3]

I want someone (not me) to write a Bodyguard!Sladick fic - but in a very specific way (I'll probs end up writing this unless someone beats me to it (pls beat me to it someone, I can't commit to another WIP))

Basically, someone kills Bruce Wayne. And not because he's batman, but because he's rich af and refuses to sell his land in Gotham (bc yk, bro can't sell the fucking batcave and all his safe houses full of Batmerch). But no one knows who killed Bruce and why but they all believe it's because they found out Batman's identity and needed him out of the way for something.

21 year old Dick Grayson, who hasn't spoken to Bruce or had anything to do with the Batfam for two years, is asked to come back for Bruce's funeral and reading of the Will. Turns out, Bruce left everything - and I mean everything; cape and all - to Dick. Dick is now The Batman, the leader of the JL, the billionaire, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and also the legal guardian of not one, not two, but three kids. Jason and Tim was understandable, but Bruce never mentioned to Dick about having a kid with Talia al Ghul of all people. In all fairness, Damian was only dropped off at Bruce's feet two months ago. (Note that I'm fucking around with the Batboy's ages. Thus, Jason is 16 (bro died young), Tim is 14(bro was crazy stalking so young), and Damian in 9(bro is just young))

The killer, however, is still at large, and is now targeting Dick, the new Prince of Gotham, and his kids. But Batman (Dick) can't get involved just yet, the Batfam don't know what exactly the killers knows about them and Batman - it's too risky. But Dick can't just not do anything. So he calls the one person he knows will keep his family safe - for the right price, obvs.

Dick has money to play with and Slade loves a good game.

Basically they make a contract that issues Deathstroke as the bodyguard of the Grayson-Wayne Family until Bruce's killer is handled.

Only, Slade comes with his own baggage (aka a 9 yr old Rose Wilson) and Dick is stuck training (aka raising) another kid. But that's fine, because Slade ends up being less of Dick's bodyguard (let's face it, the kid can handle himself), and more of Dick's bodyguard-with-benefits/mentor/business partner/mental-support-bestie/drinking-buddy/private-chef/co-parent/stay-at-home-husband/love-of-his-life.

They get very domestic in this fic. And Slade has to wear a three-piece suit when following Dick around as he plays Gotham's Billion Dollar Prince and Dick can't stop riding him in the back of the Batmobile because Slade looks waaaaay too good in a suit.

But raising kids is hard, especially when you're 21. So Dick faces a lot of challenges in this fic - like his undead brother, Jason, trying to come to terms with Bruce dying right after they started to mend their relationship, and Tim who was just recently fired as Robin after one simple mistake, and his new rage at Bruce for that and dying (he refuses to believe his dead), and fuck - the nine year old assassin and grandson of Ra's al Ghul, Damian, who never truly had the pleasure (misfortune?) of knowing his father. Than there's Rose Wilson, who doesn't really know English all that well and is dealing with the trauma of watching her mother die before her.

So Dick has to really step up - as a business man, as a leader, as Batman, and as a father.

Luckily he's got Slade, who fuck's like he fights. It tuff that Dick is quickly falling in love with Slade, and Rose, who he can't help but see as his kid, too.

Oh I love this idea so much, its great!! I would love to read it as well ahaha and I might write something 👀👀 but it's a big project so I wouldn't be able to do the whole thing

But you can let me know if you have any fav/special scene in mind (or a few 😌) and I might write it. You can also check out my commission info if that's what you'd preffer and you're able to afford it!

I love bodyguard Slade stories, I'm a sucker for those honestly haha and I love how here he's protecting not only Dick but the whole family. And its just so delicious that Dick hasn't talked to Bruce in so long and now he's thrown back into his life- but Bruce is dead and Dick has to take on the mantle and help the city and raise three kids and keep them all alive and not go crazy and-

I love that you're making it even more messy and difficult for Dick by putting Rose in the middle of it too lmao. I can already imagine all the trouble the family would have together

Slade wearing a three piece is a sight and I don't blame Dick at all 🙈🙈 But seriously, I adore their relationship in this, it's so complex and complicated. I can imagine them bonding over some whisky when the kids are deep asleep and Dick getting frustrated with what his life is now and Slade just letting him cry while holding him close AGHH SO GOOD

Thank you for sharing! Again, its a great idea and I'd love to play with it a bit if you allow me 🤗💕

#anon #my reply #not my idea #sladick #dickstroke

[captain19cb97]

ahh your fics are so cute i'm melting i love them sm! could i maybe request a super fluffy jungkook x reader fic where the reader is super shy about their laugh and always tries to hide it from him, but one day he tickles them or something and goes all heart eyed and lovey because he thinks their laugh is adorable and he doesn't want them to hide it anymore. i'm sorry if that's too long kwjdjsfjjwjd feel free to ignore it if it doesn't spark your imagination! <3

My gosh! Hii!! 👋🏻

Thank you so much! I love that you guys are enjoying them so much, it means a lot to me that you are.

Thank you for sending this, and don't apologize! The more you guys tell me about what you want, the better I can write something for you 🙃 Anyway, I hope you like it!

Requests are open!

-Em

Shy :: JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Gn!Reader (It does read more as Fem!Reader, but there's no defining pronouns so I leave it up to you on how you want to read it.)

Word Count: 2523

Genre: Fluff with a sprinkling of suggestive 👀

Warnings: Cursing. Shouldn't be anything else, but as always, please tell me if you find something and I'll fix it.

I hope you enjoy it!! 💜

You’d been sitting on your couch, a drama that you’d seen probably a thousand times playing on your tv, while you were content to let the night just waste away, alone. You’d have a long week, and honestly, it had been pretty shitty- your boss had yelled at you a couple days in a row about something that wasn’t your fault, you spilled your coffee this morning on your way to work and ended up being late because you had to come back home to change- needless to say, you were happy to have the next few days off.

As you were debating ordering something to eat, you heard someone knocking on your door and immediately felt yourself frown. You hadn’t been expecting anyone to come over, and they would’ve texted or called you anyway.

Who just shows up, unannounced at someone’s place anymore? You thought as you crossed the floor to your front door.

You checked the display for your camera and saw Jungkook standing on the other side, a bag in one hand and something else in the other. You felt the butterflies begin in your stomach as you unlocked the door, pulling it open slowly.

Jungkook, who you only knew thanks to Jimin- your older brother, also happened to be your not-something-something, at the moment. You guys were floating between the lines of are they or aren’t they all the time, and frankly, the rest of the guys were sick of it at this point. It was obvious that you both really liked each other, and Jimin was doing everything in his power to just get you two together.

Mostly just so he would finally not have to listen to you or Jungkook complain to him about wanting to be with each other, but never doing anything about it because you both were worried Jimin wasn’t okay with it.

Jungkook’s face lit up the second you’d pulled the door open and you looked up at him with that shy smile he found so adorable. “Hi.”

“Hi, Kookie, what are you doing here?” You asked softly, as you noticed he was holding flowers in his other hand.

He smiled softly, “Oh, w-well, Jimin-Hyung told me you’d had a bad few days, so I thought maybe we could hang out for a bit and maybe watch a movie or two?” He held the flowers to you, “I thought you’d like these, and I figured you hadn’t eaten yet, so I brought food, too.”

You let out a small noise, taking the flowers from him, “They’re beautiful, thank you.” You stepped aside, letting him come in finally. “Let me put these in some water, you can go into the living room though, if you want.”

He nodded, watching you go into the kitchen as he took his shoes off, before he headed for the couch. “Sorry for not texting you or anything,” He called out, loud enough for you to hear him, “I thought a surprise would be nice though, especially after having such a bad week.”

You entered the living room, dropping onto the floor next to him as he kept pulling the food out of the bag, setting everything onto the table, and grinned, “It’s okay. You know I don’t mind you coming over.”

“Even unannounced?” He smirked knowingly down at you.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth for a second as you rolled your eyes, before shyly admitting, “Only if it’s you.”

Jungkook chuckled at the sight of your reddening cheeks as he slid some of the food towards you. He’d stopped at one of your favorite places just to pick up your favorite things because Jimin had told him about how your week had gone. He was a little upset that you hadn’t mentioned anything about it, any of the times you two had talked this week, but he also knew you probably only told Jimin because he’s your brother and he’d pushed about it.

“Thank you, for this. It was really sweet of you.” You said softly, a couple minutes later as you guys were eating.

He shrugged one shoulder and smiled down at you, “I think you’re really sweet.” He said back, watching you look away from him like you always did when he’d flirt with you like that.

You shook your head at him but didn’t say anything back, so you guys fell back into a comfortable silence as the rest of your drama episode played.

Once it was over, you both started cleaning up the mess from the food and were standing in your kitchen, a few minutes later, when you let out a big sigh, and Jungkook looked over at you.

“Heavy sigh, everything okay?”

You nodded, shooting him a shy smile, “Better now, yeah.”

“It wasn’t before?” He asked softly, matching the way you were standing, and leaned against the counter opposite you.

You shook your head a little bit, “This week kinda sucked, actually. Thank you for coming over with food and flowers. It’s exactly how I’d rather end a shitty week.” You smiled again, “And I meant it before, it was really sweet of you.”

He slowly pushing off the counter to stand directly in front of you, smiling as he caged you in, his hands on both side of you as he leaned on the counter behind you now. “And I meant what I said, I think you’re really sweet. And I’d do it again, in a heartbeat.”

You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he leaned towards you just a little bit more, his eyes roaming your face for a moment before you swore, they landed on your lips.

The guys thought otherwise, but even with all the back and forth that you and Jungkook had been doing these last few months, you’ve never kissed. Hugged a bunch, sure- you guys cuddled a lot, held hands sometimes, too, but you still haven’t kissed each other, even though there have been plenty of times that you could’ve.

You both just stood there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes as the tension built, you could feel the heat rising on your chest as you resisted the urge to look away from his piercing brown eyes.

“Kookie?” You whispered, slowly reaching out and just barely taking hold of the hem of his shirt.

“Hmm?”

You could feel your heart racing as you gently rested one hand on his side, “Kiss me?”

He chuckled lowly, “Are you asking, or telling me, baby?”

Oh, that was new.

“What’s going to make you do it faster?” You challenged him softly, tilting your head to the side slightly as you grinned.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he pushed air out his nose, “Say it again and find out.”

“Kiss m- “

You didn’t even get the words out, before he was crashing his lips to yours, one of his hands coming up to cradle the back of your head as the other landed on your side and pulled you towards him.

You gripped the sides of his shirt in your hands as you moved your lips in time with his, letting him lead the kiss, holding your head as he deepened it, and pulled you closer still.

You could feel his heart racing under your palm as you slid your hands up his chest, intent on wrapping your arms around his neck, until you felt his hand on your side, featherlight as he went to slide it around to your back.

You broke away from the kiss and couldn’t stop the giggle that tore out of you as you tried to jump away from him.

“That tickled.” You admitted, seeing the confused look in his eyes.

You learned pretty quickly, those were the wrong words to say, because you found yourself running away from him in the next moment.

“Come on! I have to know every spot you’re ticklish in, now!” He laughed, chasing you into the living room.

You screamed, trying to hold in the bubbling laugh as you moved to dodge him.

You had always been a little self-conscious about your laugh, so you tended to cover it up when you laughed at something around the boys. Jimin knew, but he didn’t know just how self-conscious you really were about it.

When you were in school, you’d been picked on a lot and it was just something else they used to make fun of you about, so you’d grown up, hiding it as much as you could. You’d giggle, and scoff in place of actually laughing, and if you couldn’t help but to really laugh at something- usually Hobi’s jokes- you would physically cover your whole mouth, to muffle your laugh.

You were always worried that if Jungkook heard it, he’d find it annoying or stupid or even ugly and wouldn’t like you anymore. You didn’t know, however, that Jungkook always hated watching you cover your laugh. He didn’t know why you did it, and he didn’t know how to get you to stop, because you’d avoid the conversation whenever it came up.

But you didn’t have much time to really think about it, because Jungkook’s tattooed arm was firmly around your waist as he pulled you down to the couch, caging you beneath him as his finger danced along your sides, and all you could do was laugh, yell and do your best to stop him.

“Kookie! K-Kookie, please!” You laughed, trying to pry his fingers from you, all the while, hearing him laugh with you. You struggled against him, laughing loudly as you desperately tried to plead with him to stop tickling you. “Jungkook, please! It hurts.”

He stopped, staring down at you as you panted, trying to catch your breath finally. You slowly peered up at him, your breath hitching in your throat once you caught his eyes on yours.

“What?” You whispered, your eyes darting between his.

“Your laugh.”

You stilled. Here it comes. “W-what about it?” You asked, already dreading hearing his answer. So much so, that you had to look away from him, hiding your face slightly behind your hands.

You heard him sigh softly, before his peeled your hands away from your face with one hand, and cupped your jaw in his other, turning your head so you were looking up at him again.

His eyes softened, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear it.” He whispered back, gently running his thumb along your jaw, “It’s beautiful.”

Your brow furrowed slightly as you stared up at him in disbelief, “You-you don’t hate it?” He quickly shook his head, “Even though it’s loud, and annoying?”

He chuckled softly and shook his head again, “It’s not loud enough because I never get to hear it, and it’s you- it could never be annoying.” He told you, his hand still on your cheek as he smiled. “You don’t have to hide it. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t because I want to hear it.”

Your cheeks slowly bloomed with color as you leaned into his touch, “You do?”

He nodded, leaning down towards you slightly. “Very much, yeah.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at your lips as you met him half-way, “You’re not lying to me?”

He pulled back a little bit and pouted at you, “You really think I’d do that to you?” He whined; a joking tone laced in his words that made you giggle as you shook your head.

“I was just making sure.” You argued, still grinning widely at him as you giggled softly.

He scoffed playfully, sliding his hand from your cheek down to your neck before he slid it to the back of your head. He gently tugged your face up towards his with a wicked grin, “You have so little faith in me. Because of that, you’re getting tickled again.” He said quickly, before he was attacking your sides again.

You had no time to brace yourself, and you couldn’t hope to hold back the laughter he was pulling from you as you struggled beneath him once again.

“Okay, okay! I get it! I’m sorry, I won’t doubt you!” You yelled in between the laughter.

He stopped sooner than you thought he would, only to quickly lean down and connect his lips to yours in a short, but sweet kiss, smiling as he pulled away and looked down at you. “I could get used to this.”

“What?”

He smirked, a glimmer in his eyes, “You like this, beneath me and out of breath.”

You glared up at him and shoved his shoulder, “Really?!”

His shoulders shook as he let out a loud laugh, and you watched his nose scrunch up cutely before he looked back down at you. “I meant from laughing, you perv.”

You gaped, laughing slightly, “Shut up, no you didn’t! You said it like that on purpose.”

He gave you a devilish smile, leaning towards you again, “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. You’ll never know.”

You rolled your eyes, “I know you though.” You told him, pressing your lips to his for another chaste kiss before you relaxed into the couch below him, “I could get used to this, though.”

“And what would that be?”

“Kissing you.”

This time, you watched the color blooming on his cheeks as he chuckled nervously above you, looking away for a moment, “Me too. I’d been waiting a long time for that, too.”

 The rest of the night was spent, caged between Jungkook and the couch, while he tickled you to hear you laugh, and then letting him kiss you right after. And he loved every second of it, finally hearing you laugh- really laugh, every time his fingers made contact with your sides.

When he was getting ready to leave that night, both of you on opposite sides of your open door as you both dragged out the already long goodbye, he grinned softly down at you. “Promise me, that you’re not going to hide your laugh anymore.”

“Around you?”

He shook his head, “Around any of us. I’m serious, I want to hear it all the time.”

You sighed softly, and nodded slowly, “It’ll take a while, but I’ll try not to anymore.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close with a grin, “Good. Because if you hide it from me anymore, I will cry, knowing how beautiful it really is now.”

“You’ll cry?” You questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

He nodded, bumping your nose with his softly, “Absolutely. And I’ll just tickle you to hear it, if I have to.”

You giggled, “What a threat, Kookie.”

He smirked and squeezed your sides, making you jump and shoot him a look, “Fuck around and find out, baby.”

Well, you fucked around, and you found out, the next time you guys were together- finally as a couple, too- and you were happy to know, that none of the guys found your laugh annoying, or loud, or ugly, and they were all happy to finally hear you actually laughing, almost as much as Jungkook was.

#jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

[nerdieforpedro]

12/10/2023 - Weekend Update

Nerdie! Look at you staying on a schedule.

I know! Being half-way organized. It's kinda nice.

We'd never thought we'd see the day. So what's new?

I made some fic posts this week:

Sard'ika Sessions - Session Two (Din Djarin x plus size female reader)

Christmas List (Robbie Reyes x reader)

The Brave, The Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore (Volume 3)

A New Tradition with Frankie (Frankie Morales x GN reader)

We also spread positivity though everyone's ask boxes and exchanged lovely messages with each other and loved on each other.

Read anything this week?

I did. A large portion of it is in my Fanfic appreciation post volume 3 which the link is above. I also started a volume 4 because I love highlighting different author's works that I've enjoyed. 😀

I'm just going to pick my top three for the week:

Don't Drink the Punch by @wildemaven (Soft Dave and female reader. I'm a fan of soft Dave. He can be soft and sweet. He and the reader are married and they're at a work event. It's lovely.)

Exposed by @maggiemayhemnj (Ezra and female reader. Turns out this is her first fic. I was flabbergasted. The Imagery, word flow and cadence are all from someone who's pen name is one word, like Cher or Homer or Ms. PayDay.)

Insatiable by @pedge-page (Frankie Morales and female reader. Part three of their three part emotional sexual odyssey with Frankie and the female reader. There's big feelings and lots of smut abound. But there is a sweet end to it.)

What happened outside of fanfics this week?

I was sick most of the week. I ended up in the ED at work and was out for the week. Thankfully I'm on the mend and should be ready this upcoming week for work and beyond! I caught up on different FBI shows, watched Loki with my mom (she wonders if he's going to be at a convention - I'm hoping not so she won't bum rush the man,) and bought a book on flowers. I've also been starting back up on learning Spanish again.

What's coming up this week?

I'm working on another Robbie Reyes fic - likely to be a one shot but dark because the Rider is dark. Gabriel Luna had a birthday this past week, @musings-of-a-rose sent me all the pictures so this is where we are in life right now. All Luna’ed down and what not.

I'm gonna try for some more fluff, maybe with Dieter, Frankie or Benny. Not sure who. We'll see.

I could, possibly, be working on one of my other series that I started and dropped like a hot potato. Maybe they'll have new chapters. People were reading them, which was the weirdest thing.

Session Three of Sard'ika Sessions will be up on Wednesday. The Way is paved with Space Smut according to the Maker. 🫡 We'll be at the mid-point so we're in for a shift, but no worries. Session four, five and six took up a lot of pages in my notebook and it was all outlined with a lot of things. Maybe some more improper beskar use? Might need to touch base with The Armorer on that. 👀 Didn't know that was included in the ancient ways either.

Nerdie, don't be messing with The Creed like that.

To be fair, I did mention in Session one that there would be liberties taken with both The Creed and The Way so the latter sessions are where more of those liberties are taken. Maybe a lot, maybe a little. You'll have to read and see. Different Mandalorians see The Creed differently, why can’t I?

I am curious about what liberties my Space Sister @linzels-blog would make with The Creed. 🤔

Wait, why is it weird that people were reading your other series?

Since I haven't updated them for months, I didn't expect them to get any comments, then they did. It was very sweet and got me thinking, maybe I should finish that at some point, or at least add to it. I'm trying to focus on one at a time. Can't be crossing streams.

We get it, but that joke though? Could have done without that. Any last thoughts?

I need to work more on the pickled Peña project. Haven't finished that yet. Stay safe and hydrated. There are nasty bugs that are wreaking havoc on people's noses and sinuses. We’re very happy that @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @for-a-longlongtime have lived to tell their stories.

Also check your knives and watch your tips. I guess you can palm the tips or take them and do whatever as long as you're safe about it.

Nerdie, what are you talking about...? Do we want to know?

If you know, you know and if you don't, find some hot tips. 😘

Stay safe and don't get any in your eye,

Love Nerdie 💜

(escapes to a certain moodboard 🍆)

Nerdie! You can't just say that and leave! 😠

#fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #gabriel luna #weekend update #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #din djarin #the mandalorian #dieter bravo #robbie reyes #fic recs #watch out for those tips #don’t poke an eye out #Nerdie will always go for the dirty joke #it’s a sure bet

[solarmorrigan]

God I want to eat part 8 with a spoon!! It’s exactly what I want from a hurt/comfort fic, little bumps along the way that make the happy ending more believable.

I can totally see where Eddie was going, but also exactly how he fucked everything up. Doing that as a surprise would suck, especially so close to Steve’s confession that that’s what he considered their first date to be. He’s too focused on being the perfect boyfriend without communicating with Steve on what they both was their relationship to be now, and obviously that doesn’t work!!

And Steve!! The way you write him is so perfect, the way he drops everything the second they aren’t alone until he can’t anymore made me tear up. I could tell he was trying so hard to enjoy the date and I honestly think if Eddie had told him before the date, where they were going, I think it could have actually been good. And the line that Steve says about what he’d have had if Eddie had just looked at him,, ohhh that hurt so good

Robin is going to have a very hard time forgiving this, I fear. She already gave Eddie a second chance and I think she’ll take this disaster of a date as him just spitting all over it. Because she saw how happy Steve was after the first time they went to the diner and now she’s going to see how much this date at the diner hurt him. If she was ready to kill Eddie after the first fight, she’s not going to let him off so easy this time

I’m so happy that my messages aren’t bothering you and that my questions are actually relevant! Sometimes, I worry that I’m reading too far into the fics that I read lol 💖💖

Hello! I'm sorry I wasn't able to respond before now, I kept "waiting for the mental energy" so I could give a satisfactory response, but other things kept getting in the way and now I'm very late, BUT ANYWAY

I am glad you enjoyed!

Once I set up the silly little "three date rule" joke, I knew I wanted Steve to have his blow-up after the second one, but I couldn't figure out why, if the first date had gone so well, he would be pushed to lose his temper after the second. And after a while (and babbling at a very patient friend), I came to the conclusion that you did - Eddie's still trying too hard to be what he thinks Steve wants, because he doesn't fully understand yet what's at the core of why Steve's so hurt

But that's not entirely his fault, because Steve won't talk about it

And I thought it was a little funny, because I got at least one person asking if Steve wasn't being kind of an asshole for blowing up at Eddie when Eddie really is trying - and yes! Steve's reaction is a little outsized given the situation, but he's not reacting just to the date, he's reacting to the whole thing in a way he hasn't been able to yet, because that's what happens when you bottle shit up

He'd been worried up to that point about being the one who's an asshole if he let any negative emotions through (which is why I thought the question was kind of funny), so he just... didn't. He put on a mask for everyone because that's what he's always done and that's what he knows how to do, but in the process he mostly just hurt himself and hurt Eddie a bit, too

Honestly, Steve is just so much fun to write. I love bouncing him off of other characters because his reactions have the potential to be so malleable

And we will get to Robin's reaction! Just not quite yet 👀

#anonymous #answers from solar #long post #I have an answer for your other ask too! I just haven't had a chance to type it up yet!

[stevespookington]

have any fic recs?

I'm assuming you are here for steddie fics so here's some! also going to toss a link to my stranger thing fics on ao3 on here because ofc I rec my own lol

make this inn our own by @hexmionegranger (it's still a wip rn but it will be done in a couple of days!) a hallmark style winter fic based around steve inheriting an inn (or inn-heriting lol) I am literally obsessed with it

After a family secret threatens the upstanding Harrington name, Steve is forced to leave Hawkins right after highschool. Life carries on without him, The Party defeats Vecna and the gates close, and ten years pass. Then, Otis Harrington dies and leaves Steve the Carnation Inn. With Christmas fast approaching, business man Steve must return to Hawkins and fix it up to sell. But coming home comes with guilt, trauma, and grappling with his identity in the Harrington family, and the family secret that tore him away from the one person who may have understood what he was going through. Add in a dilapidated inn, a snarky handyman, a meddling gang of no-longer-kids, and a little bit of Christmas Magic, and everything Steve has fought so hard to build is suddenly threatening to crumble around him.

it's time to run by @maxinemaxmayfield a timeloop fic that is just so good!! (I still need to finish it, but it's such a great read that I'm dropping it here anyways i absolutely love the build up)

“–Can you hear me? Dustin! Earth to Dustin!” Steve jolts upright. Eddie’s voice, slightly distorted, coming through the walkie. Nancy’s voice answers, and Steve blinks, looking around. He’s in the Wheelers’ basement, folded awkwardly into a horribly uncomfortable chair with wooden armrests. Lucas and Dustin are snoring nearby, and there’s the sound of soft voices and the clatter of cutlery from upstairs. He’s been here before.

Been Waiting For Someone New To Make Me Feel Alive by @tabbytabbytabby the kids parent trap them and it's very cute with some misunderstandings for some mild angst with happy ending would definitely recommend

As Steve tries to work through his growing feelings for Eddie, Dustin hatches a plan to try to get the two of them together.

from this moment on by @hotcocoaharrington very cute established relationship and proposal fic it's oh so soft

Steve bought the ring a year after they started dating. It was too soon, way too soon, even if everything they’d been through made it feel like they’d known each other, like they’d been in each other’s corners for forever. One year was entirely too early to be putting marriage on the table, especially when they were still so young. Not to mention, Steve knew that Eddie had a rocky relationship with the concept thanks to his parents, and, truth be told, so did Steve. But none of that really mattered. Because Steve was that in love. He was that sure of them. So he bought the ring. Without hesitation. And he held onto it, for all this time. He’d had a gut feeling, back in 1988. And eight years later it’s still there. Still there and stronger than ever.

and since I haven't been reading as much as usually do i'm also going to toss some from my marked for later list below the cut that I am looking forward to 👀

Paint Nights by AnnetheCatDetective

Steve is looking for something for Dustin, but when he walks into the game and hobby shop, he sees something he likes.

oh, I heard it through the grapevine by idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo

“It just doesn’t make sense why Mr. Harrington’s single! He’s nice, he’s funny, he’s hot for his age -“ “I overheard him threatening to smash Mr. Munson’s kneecaps in with a spiked bat the other day,” Paul says. “I’m telling you, he has a dark past.” or, not a single senior student at their high school can figure out what’s the deal with mr. harrington’s love life. maybe the answer is closer than they think.

Ring Ring (Why Don't You Give Me a Call?) by whatsthatfor

What was strange was when Harrington called. And called again, and then Eddie was calling him, and it just didn’t stop. Eddie and Steve fall in love over a series of phone calls.

In Eddie's Honour by literaldisneyprincess

Without thinking, he reaches down and slides his fingers over the indent made by the pen. Eddie must have pressed down harder than necessary, leaving a tactile mark as well as the visual one. Steve’s hit by the realisation that Eddie will never write his name again. Never write or draw, or even hold a pen again. Ever. For the first time in two weeks, he stops. He looks around his room, feeling lost, feeling alone and so achingly, horribly empty. Steve struggles with the grief left behind after Eddie's death and how he can move past it without forgetting.

but the fire is so delightful by 96tears

When Robin and Dustin back out of a trip to Steve’s grandparents’ cabin over Christmas break, Steve’s a little disappointed. But he can’t lie: the idea of spending the weekend alone with Eddie is pretty damn appealing. He’d been hoping to get Eddie away from the others, so he could finally tell him how he feels, and now he’s got the whole weekend to do it.

#steddie #stranger things #fic recs #steddie fic recs

[velvetwyrme]

So I saw the instrument ask and I hope this is cool to drop this question I’ve been puzzling over. If not just ignore this. I don’t have anyone else to theorize with.

I read a fic where all the au! Skeletons end up in the og world on the surface (classic scenario.) They use nicknames for each other but they have to register “legal” names with the government (for jobs and licenses etc.) Sans and Papyrus are already taken so they use other font names as for it. Ever since I’ve read it I can’t decide what names each would go by and I want your opinion.

There are only two I’ve decided on:

Swapfell Sans - Garamond

Underfell Papyrus - Roman (from times new Roman obvs)

But I’m going crazy trying to decide on any others and I seek your counsel.

I have a list of possible fonts but I don’t want to drop it on you because this ask is already kinda long but if you do want it I’ll send it. Sorry again for the text dump.

IT'S ABSOLUTELY ALRIGHT <333 I'd love to see if I can help out any :o!! (*grabby hands* GIMME LIST. I LOVE LISTS.)

What are your criteria and thoughts for picking fonts👀? Is it just Vibes or are there any specific reasons for the ones you've chosen so far :?

I really like Roman for UF!Papyrus... sharp, tight and snappy- full of straight lines and points... free of frills and loops but still stylish in it's own right! Also somewhat disliked in certain spaces PLUS it has the inherent correlation between the Romans [empire] and UF!Papyrus' role in the royal guard !

Tangentially related, I found an article by the NY Times (coincidence? I think not!! /lh /j) that's just all about Garamond (the font), and it's especially fun to read with the context of Swapfell!Sans

"And where some see elegance, others perceive fussiness. There’s a stereotype associated with the sort of person who loves Garamond: The Garamond Guy, if you will, is irritatingly uptight, so certain of his own profundity that his words must be conveyed with the weight of a 500-year-old French typeface."

Source

#i feel like ive probably read that same fic... #esp. if SF!Sans' brother was called Palatino lol #sorry i havent given any help yet im reclining on a fancy fainting couch and batting my eyelids at u because i love getting asks- #-except instead of looking cool and or sexy i just look a bit like a limp noodle draped over the cushions. what was i saying #i also went thru a crisis abt what legal names to give the skeletons a while back lol #i didnt go anywhere with it because it is relevant for 1 (one) scene and thats it so i just named sf!sans Sans Serif #purely because i think he was the first to get the paperwork done and classic sans' legal name is either- #- 'comic sans' or 'sans' (all lowercase) #velwy.txt #inbox #anon #do i need to make a tag for these lol #mindmortar

[catt-leya]

Touch Me Pt.1 || Rick Grimes

First I wish @toxic-ink a wonderful birthday and love to post the fic you asked for 💗💗💗

I've been asked before for a fic with more than one part and here we have it 👉🏼👈🏼 I don't know yet how many it will be in the end, but you can count on a small series 👀

(I won't just post the fic though, I'll keep throwing in other fics 💅🏼)

Summary: You meet a group in the forest and learn what it means to meet Rick there. (S5)

I try to breathe regularly and not to stumble over some protruding roots as I make the sprint of my life.

Hectically I take a look back and fortunately I can't see him anymore, which doesn't mean that he might not reappear in a moment.

Again and again I dodge hanging branches until I can recognize a group of hopefully living people between the bushes. Briefly I stop and hear them talking softly, so they must be alive.

I realize that they must not be good people and I can really get myself into shit, but when I hear it crack behind me, I don't think any further and break through the bushes.

I am still a few meters short of the group and I notice most of them pointing guns at me.

I aim at the person closest to me and get over another meter gasping, "Help me please."

The fact that I can speak is the sign that I am not a living corpse, and the guy I throw myself at is so surprised that he drops the rifle in his hand and I pull him to the ground with me.

We both hit the ground thudding and the impact squeezes the air out of his lungs, but he catches himself surprisingly quickly and spins me around so that I'm lying pressed on the ground underneath him and I'm already regretting showing myself to the group until I look to the side and also see women in the group who don't look like they're being forced to be here.

Every woman I can make out is carrying weapons and one guy even stands protectively in front of a young woman.

The guy above me barks, "Daryl! Go see where she came from!"

A man with longer hair breaks away from the group and walks with a woman through the bushes where I ran through.

As they disappear, I look for the first time at the guy I picked up in my sprint.

With his weight he presses me to the ground so I can't move much more than my head and geez, probably would have been better if I couldn't look at him.

His face is extremely close to mine due to the interesting position and I can feel his breath on my lips. Although his mouth distracts me a bit, my eyes are fixed on his eyes.

In this dreary world, they seem far too blue and I have to blink several times before I can break away from his face and look down his body instead.

He kneels over my hip and presses my wrists firmly to the floor with his hands. Surprisingly, while he holds me firmly in place, he doesn't hurt me in the process.

I don't know how long we stare at each other silently, but in the background I hear this Daryl guy come back with the woman and says, "Don't know what the lady was running from, but there's nothing there."

Still staring at the guy above me, Daryl mutters, "Rick?"

Now I at least have a name to go with the handsome face, but still can't bring myself to say a word. Rick doesn't respond to his buddy either, which is why Daryl kicks him lightly in the leg and says, "Dude, what's up?"

This seems to snap Rick out of his thoughts and he hisses, turning to me, "You got any guns on you?"

When I used to read novels, I always wondered what the authors could possibly mean by bedroom voice, and now I'm pretty sure I get it, what they mean. That smoky undertone of his makes me sigh softly, but I bite my lower lip just in time to not come across as a complete idiot and answer truthfully, "Two knives on my thighs."

Hesitantly, he lets go of one of my hands and reaches for my thigh.

I completely blame it on the fact that it's been a long time since I've seen a man I found as attractive as the one above me, but my whole body reacts as his hand strokes my thigh and he removes both knives from their holders and hands them to Daryl before asking, "No guns?"

I shake my head, not really expecting him to believe me. I wouldn't believe me either.

That's why I don't bat an eye as he pats me down and, of course, finds nothing else.

Apparently I'm no longer an immediate threat and he sits up before getting up from me and holding out his hand for me to stand up too.

I proudly ignore his helping hand and hoist myself to my feet far more inelegantly than he did.

I get stares from everyone and feel the need to say something, "Thank you."

In a raspy voice, Rick asks me, "What were you running from?"

Unsure, I squint again at the bushes and then shrug, "There was some guy."

The young man who had earlier stood protectively in front of a woman breaks away from the group and takes a few steps toward me, "What guy?"

Again I shrug my shoulders, "I don't know. Just a guy."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Rick tilt his head, "So you ran away from some guy and then figured your best bet was to run into the next one and kiss the ground with him?"

With narrowed eyes I look back at him, "Exactly. I thought to myself: Great, there's a new guy. The best thing for me to do is test him out and see if he'll catch me if I run into his arms."

His eyebrows go up and I sigh, "My goodness. I was taking out some of the walking corpses in the woods and this huge man suddenly appeared. As far as I could tell, he was alone and at first he helped me take out the rest of the assholes. Then I went to ask him who he was and he tried to get in my pants. As you can imagine, it wasn't my dream to have sex with this guy and when he wouldn't let up I took off. Instead of letting me go though, he came after me and no shit, the guy made a move, I had to make 3 to keep up so he couldn't catch me. Then I saw you guys and thought to myself: A group with women might be better than falling back into the guy's arms."

I point to Rick, "That's why I fell into your arms and I have to admit I knocked you off your feet pretty easily."

Of course he doesn't take the teasing and asks, "What's your name?"

I tell them my name and look to Daryl, "Can I have my knives?"

He merely shakes his head and I look to Rick with a sigh, "I could have easily stabbed you when I ran into you."

The young woman mutters, "She's right."

Still, Rick, like Daryl, shakes his head, "No, you're not getting them back yet. We'll take another look around for your ominous colleague and then move on. By 'we' I mean you, too."

Immediately I raise my hands deprecatingly, "Noooo, you can forget that real quick. I thank you guys for your help, but I'm not staying with you."

Rick takes a step toward me and I'm too stiff to react, only flinching when I feel the cool metal around my wrist.

Hectically I look down at my wrist that is encased in one side of a handcuff and can't believe the other side is encasing Rick's wrist, "What did you do that for?"

Quietly he says, "I don't trust you."

In disbelief, I throw my free left arm in the air, "And you think that's a good idea?! What if I have a group out looking for me and then take you all down?"

Rick pulls on the handcuff and says, "You don't."

Slowly the group starts moving and I have no choice but to follow Rick, "How do you know?"

Looking over his shoulder at me, he says, "If you did, you would have run to them and not strangers."

In fact, he's right, and I really don't like him for it, even if his pretty face makes up for a lot.

Still, I don't let up, "And what if I was bitten."

Again he replies, "You weren't."

These smartass answers make my skin crawl and I hiss, "Nice to know you're omniscient."

I hear him laugh softly and, unfortunately, I can't stifle a grin either and don't ask any further questions.

Again and again, some of the people disappear into the woods and I assume they are scanning the area. They don't seem to find anything that calms me down and so slowly I also get used to the fact of being handcuffed to a strange man, except that the handcuffs rub against my hand with every step.

I look at Rick from the side and ask, "Is the handcuff really necessary?"

Silently, he nods, not even looking at me, so I ask the group, "How long have you all been traveling together?"

The young woman I've seen time and time again comes forward to join us and nods at me, "I'm Maggie and most of us have known each other for a long time."

I smile at her, "That sounds nice."

We talk some more and she introduces me to everyone in the group before she is called out by her husband (I'm told) and I'm alone again with Rick and my aching wrist, "Why don't you take this stupid handcuff off me?"

He brushes a few strands out of his face and says again, "No." That's when I groan in frustration, "Come on. My wrist is burning like fire."

I can see him roll his eyes and then take my hand in his. Nothing more happens.

He holds my hand in his and just keeps walking.

I'm also too surprised to say anything, but the fact is that the metal doesn't rub on my hand like that anymore. So I walk next to him holding hands.

The longer we walk silently side by side like this, the more familiar it feels, and as I yawn, I slide my fingers through his, which catches me a quick glance from him, but he just bites his lower lip and doesn't comment further.

I have no idea how long we go on until he says, addressing everyone, "This is where we will sleep."

Everyone immediately knows what to do and I can't help but be impressed with how strongly the group sticks together and works with each other. Even in this short time, I feel safe in their midst and although I miss my knives, I don't feel like they're throwing me to the corpses.

Rick walks with me to a tree and slides down it. Through our intertwined fingers, he pulls me along with him and I plop down on the ground next to him.

Lowly, I say, "I was so snotty earlier, but I meant it about being grateful to you."

Lazily he looks at me, "You're welcome."

A small smile forms on my lips and I slide around on my butt so I can look right at him, "I'd like to know what went on in that guy's head that he had to run right after me."

The sun is slowly setting and the light that falls through the dense canopy of leaves casts advantageous shadows on his already handsome face as he wearily replies, "Some people were sick in the head before all this shit. But to a certain extent, I can even understand him."

I frown and his gaze slides along my body, "You're really pretty, which of course is no excuse for what he wanted to do to you nor can it pass for an explanation, but I can understand that he was thinking about having sex with you."

And my mouth drops open.

Did he just shamelessly tell me he wanted to have sex with me?

I should be indignant and maybe even feel some fear because I'm tied to the man, but I'm not.

Instead, I cough, "Wait. What?"

He laughs softly and leans his head against the tree trunk, "Oh come on. I wouldn't touch you in my life without your consent, so just take it easy. You can't blame me, though, for thinking about it ever since you ran into me."

To be continued...

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink

#rick grimes #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #twd #twd x reader #the walking dead